Diary of a Discovered Girl
by Ash-Caro-Lynn
Summary: Holly Potter is the twin sister of Harry Potter, though only her brother and the Weasleys know it. She and the Boy-Who-Lived are returning to their third year at Hogwarts... but her cover might be blown when Remus Lupin recognizes the daughter of one of his best friends. Set to 'Prisoner of Azkaban.' Third in a series. Rewritten and updated.
1. Of Chocolate and Coldness

**Disclaimer : I do not own Harry Potter or claim any part of this story aside from Holly.**

Diary of a Discovered Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter I : Of Chocolate and Coldness_

"Come on, hurry up, we're going to miss the train if you continue to walk at that pace," complained Fred, one of my best friends, as we made our way through the busy King's Cross Station.

I rolled my eyes. "Fred Weasley, don't you dare get onto me about walking slowly, _I'm behind you_." He and his brother shared a wince.

"Bloody hell, Fred," complained George – Fred's twin. "She's starting to sound like Mum."

The two solemnly nodded, evidently agreeing over this fact. The twins' mother was a nice woman, really, she had practically adopted my brother and I even though the only way we were related to her was through one of our shared best friends by the name of Ronald Weasley (though he preferred to be called Ron).

This probably had a lot to do with the fact that my brother and I were orphans who had been separated from each other nearly twelve years ago on the night our parents were murdered by a dark wizard called Voldemort.

Most people don't like saying his name for fear of him – and indeed, I shouldn't be taking this lightly, seeing as he killed my parents.

But I'm not exactly normal, and it's not only based off the fact that I'm a witch, though that is a large part of who I am.

Not the type from Muggle stories – that is, the fairy tales that non-magical folk come up with. I brew potions in cauldrons, but only in Potions class (which I am particularly strong in). I can also summon items to my hand with only a flick of my wand, though the only time I really practice those skills is in Charms class, another of my talents.

Though I can (and will, if you push me enough) turn you into a beetle if I so choose. But Transfiguration isn't so much my jurisdiction as it was my brother's.

My brother, Harry James, was remarkable, and for reasons other than the fact that he was awesome at Transfiguration.

In fact, he was famous, and practically every child from our world – the wizarding world, that is – knew his name.

On the night our parents died, both Harry and I had witnessed their fall, and indeed, Voldemort had tried to kill us as well. But there was something that protected my brother, that some would call love and others would call sheer dumb luck, and when Voldemort cast the Killing Curse and spoke the words that had caused our parents to fall, Harry somehow survived and defeated the dark wizard, the only proof he ever fought him being a lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

It really was an epic tale compared to my own – I had been protected not by love nor luck, but by sheer coincidence as I ducked – yes _ducked_ – the curse he sent at me, leaving no trace aside from the lock of jet black hair the same shade as my brother's on the left side of my face, dark as the spell I had nearly been killed by. I blew said strand of hair out of my face as I continued to follow the Weasley twins at the painfully slow pace they had set.

"Can, I, like, ditch the two of you?" I complained, and they shot identical grins back over their shoulders at me in response. I rolled my eyes as they finally ( _finally!_ ) parted, allowing me to pass between them and rush to get to the train on time, the two of them picking up their pace only after I left them.

The little shits. Well, not little, seeing as they're taller than me… whatever.

I quickly unloaded my trunk and owl – a fine specimen I had fondly nicknamed 'Dove,' despite the fact that the name made absolutely no sense – and boarded the train, quickly locating a compartment and sitting down.

It was only as I was extracting a book from my bag to read on the ride when I noticed that the train compartment I had chosen was not, in fact, empty. There was a man in the seat across from me – not a student, but a man who looked to be a professor, sleeping against the window with a suitcase at his feet. Curious, I read the name stamped on it in faded lettering – _Professor R.J. Lupin_.

So, I had chosen the one compartment on the train in which a professor resided. Interesting. Idly, I wondered whether or not this was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

See, in all of the whopping two years that I had been at the school, Hogwarts had never managed to keep a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for more than a year. The first, Professor Quirrell, had turned out to be housing Voldemort on the back of his head (beneath a turban), and had ultimately died at the end of the year when Voldemort had tried to kill Harry and I. Harry had defeated the Dark Lord and his servant, and thus had ended the first professor.

The second, Gilderoy Lockhart, had been a phenomenon in the Wizarding World. From defeating banshees to saving villages from werewolves – or something of the sort, I don't exactly remember – he had written books on several amazing achievements that all turned out to be fake when he was unveiled as a fraud at the end of the year. He had ultimately been tasked with saving a student from a Basilisk – a giant, snake-like creature that had haunted the school and tried to kill students born to non-magical parents – and had ended up packing his bags to leave rather than venturing into the Chamber of Secrets to save Ginny Weasley (which Harry, Ron and I had ultimately ended up doing), and thus had ended the second professor.

I was shaken out of my thoughts quite literally as a pair of hands reached out and shook my shoulders. I tried to scowl but ended up laughing at my brother's antics.

"Harry, you've got to stop doing that," I scolded, though my seriousness was rather dampened by the wide grin spreading across my face. "So how's your summer been? I haven't seen you in forever!"

Harry had been staying with the Dursleys – our awful aunt, uncle and cousin. Having been thought to have been killed the Halloween night that had ended our parents, I had thankfully been separate.

Petunia, our aunt, was a bitter woman who enjoyed talking about others and gossiping but absolutely loathed answering any of her nephew's questions.

Vernon, our uncle, was a man who was about as good at running his own company – a firm called 'Grunnings' – as he was at being nice to people. And well, let's just say that his company wasn't the greatest. He yelled a lot – though whether or not he enjoyed this was uncertain – and it was a wonder that he managed to stay upright with all of his wobbles of fat.

Meanwhile, his son Dudley was a fat pig of a boy who enjoyed eating almost as much as he enjoyed beating up Harry, tormenting Harry, and generally being a jerk to Harry. You get the picture.

They were a bunch of meanies, to put it lightly.

"You mean two weeks," he replied, rolling his eyes. "I've been good – been staying at the Leaky Cauldron after blowing up our delightful Aunt Marge and seeing a Grim-"

" _Blowing up our aunt_?" I repeated. "Harry, where on earth did you get the explosives to do that? You must've needed a lot, if she's anything like Uncle Vernon-"

He laughed. "Like a balloon, Holly, not a bomb," he explained. "Otherwise I'd probably be running from more than just death omens and angry relatives."

"Wait, stop for a second," I said, holding up a hand. " _Death omens_? Grims? Mate, I know you're taking Divination as an elective this year, but still… I think Professor Trelawney isn't quite as determined in predicting death as you are."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, I didn't think much of it at the time, but I saw a giant black dog as I left the Dursleys' residence, but I saw it on the cover of a book and-"

"Harry, Harry, Harry," I chastised, shaking my head. "Oh, whenever will you learn? Those authors are about as trustworthy as Sirius Black."

"Sirius Black?" repeated Harry. "Who's he?"

I gasped dramatically, holding a hand to my heart. "Why, brother dearest, however have you not heard of Sirius Black, the notorious murderer under the highest security at Azkaban, the wizarding prison that is, who just managed to escape and make the Dementors look like doofuses?"

"Dementors?" I shook my head, sighing.

"The evil ghosty-ghouly thingies that guard the highest security wizarding prison," I explained. "It's said that they suck the happiness out of the prisoners and eventually take away their souls, leaving them shells of who they used to be."

"Pleasant sounding," mumbled Harry, finally looking at the man still snoozing in the corner. "Who's he? Have you managed to steal one of the other kids' parents?"

I laughed. "Unless there's a student by the last name of Lupin, I don't think so," I replied. "He's our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, I think. _Professor R.J. Lupin_. Do you think it would be inappropriate to ask what the 'R' and 'J' stand for?"

"Probably," he replied, "though asking his age would be more inappropriate."

"I've missed you so, brother dearest!" I cried dramatically, leaping on him in a sort of flying tackle hug made awkward by the fact that he was sitting. The compartment door slid open, revealing my very best girl friend, Hermione Granger.

The girl in question raised an eyebrow. "Am I interrupting something?" she asked, shooting me a knowing look. I rolled my eyes.

"Darling Granger, I honestly have missed you, but you really do need to stop insinuating that," I said, shaking my head and patting the seat next to me (having climbed off of Harry).

See, darling Hermione Granger was under the impression that my name was Willow Leavitt, as was the rest of the Hogwarts population aside from the Weasley family. This was because I had told them this – and the entire wizarding world had been told that Holly Louise Potter had died the same night that her parents had.

I had grown up rather sheltered from people, needless to say.

And Hermione also enjoyed insinuating that Harry fancied me – despite my frequent protests, she wouldn't stop; without any actual proof to the contrary, she continued her suspicions.

"Who's that?" asked Hermione curiously, looking at the professor who was still sleeping (however he managed to do it I would never learn).

"Professor R.J. Lupin," I answered. "Don't ask how old he is, apparently that's inappropriate, 'cording to Harry."

My brother rolled his eyes as Hermione giggled. "Girls," he mumbled, shaking his head. "Wiser, perhaps, but saner? Most definitely not."

"Yes!" I cried as the train drew to a stop. "Finally! The end of this ride! I am starvished!"

"First of all," replied Harry, "what does starvished mean?"

I rolled my eyes. "Starved and famished," I replied. "And whatever other points did you wish to address, Harry dear? The beautiful scenery, perhaps?"

"No," he replied. "The facts that the trolley lady hasn't come by yet and that the last I checked, this ride lasted for several hours, not half of one."

"Buzzkill," I mumbled, leaning back in the seat and crossing my arms over my chest, brows furrowed as I turned over the information in my head. "So why are we stopping, then? Have they finally determined that you're unworthy of attending Hogwarts and decided to throw you off the train?"

"I'd like to see them try," commented Hermione, suddenly flinching. I looked at her like she was crazy for a moment (not that she wasn't, but beside the point, really) before I too jumped, feeling cold rush into the compartment and send a chill up my spine.

"What's happening?" I mumbled worriedly, watching my breath form clouds in the suddenly chilled air. Neither Harry nor Hermione could answer as the lights started to flicker, their last shimmers illuminating the frost starting to creep up the glass door before we were enveloped in complete darkness.

I heard Hermione let out a small squeak, barely seeing that someone had fallen on top of her in the darkness. "Who's this?" asked the disembodied voice of the person now struggling to get up.

"Neville?" she asked. The clumsy boy and I weren't the best of friends, but we were certainly at least very well acquainted.

"Hermione?" his voice sounded.

"Willow!" I shouted with a grin, and I could feel the gazes of the other members of the compartment on me even though I couldn't see them. "Just trying to diffuse the tension..." I mumbled in my defense. "Say, Neville, what are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you guys," he replied, and if I had been able to see him I'm almost certain I would have seen him shrug. "Ginny's-"

Before he could finish his sentence, I felt the grin slip from my face as a hooded figure approached. My heart turned to ice as I heard unintelligible screaming.

The hooded figure came closer, and stretched out a cloaked arm, though I wasn't able to spend long looking at it as I felt my eyes roll back into my head as my already dark vision turned to blackness.


	2. Of Dementors and Demons

Diary of a Discovered Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter II : Of Dementors and Demons_

 _"No, not my babies! You can take me instead... but don't hurt my babies!"_

 _"Step aside, foolish girl! Avada Kedavra!"_

 _Screaming… a shrill, hoarse scream…_

 _...green light… a flash of green light… another… brightness and then darkness… darkness…_

 _"Willow!" More screaming… more panicking… "Willow!"_

 _Shaking, and then light._

* * *

"Willow!" I jumped suddenly, sitting upright as I frantically looked around the compartment, soon realizing that my vision – if one could call it that – was over, and I was looking at the worried faces of Neville, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and the professor from earlier, who held a ball of blue flames in his hand and had awoken.

"What happened?" I queried, looking confusedly around the compartment.

This time, at least, my question was answerable. "Dementors," answered the professor. "They're on the train looking for Sirius Black."

"Sirius Black?" I repeated. "Why would he be on the train? Last I checked, escaped murderers didn't board train rides with teenagers."

"That's what I just went to check," he replied, pulling out a bar of chocolate from his robe pocket. Before I could ask him why in the blazes he had chocolate (and how it hadn't melted while he was sitting on it), he broke off a rather large piece, offering it to me. "It'll help you feel better."

"And so I am once again proven right in saying that girls aren't the only ones who love chocolate," I mumbled to Harry, affectionately mussing his already messy hair as I bit into it. "So, what happened?"

"You just asked that," muttered Harry, rolling his eyes. "Well, apparently you and I both-"

"Fainted?" I finished for him. "And did you hear the-"

"Screaming?" he finished for me. "Yeah."

"That's scary," mumbled Ron – ah, Ron! I hadn't even noticed the youngest Weasley boy… well, I had, but I hadn't acknowledged him.

"What is, young Weasley?" I asked teasingly. "The fact that I can finish his sentences and he mine? Or fainting? Or hearing screaming?"

"Bloody hell, she's still insufferable," he muttered to Harry, who laughed as I smacked the two of them upside the head.

"Wow, this chocolate stuff really does help," I mumbled, holding out the little piece I had left and gazing at it with a look of wonder. "Thanks, Moony."

Hermione and Ginny looked bewildered, Ron hadn't even noticed, Harry and Neville shared a look that screamed, ' _Girls are crazy_ ,' but it was nothing compared to the utter shock on Professor Lupin's face.

Truthfully, I had absolutely no clue where the word had come from, but it had slipped from my tongue almost naturally. I immediately started to apologize, but Lupin held up a hand to stop me.

"That's… quite alright," he mumbled, making Hermione and I share a look similar to the one Harry and Neville had, except that we were both thinking along the lines of, ' _Professors are crazy_.' "Don't apologize, Ho- Willow."

Was it just me, or had he been about to say Holly? I shook my head to clear it, though the confusion remained.

 _Who was he?_

* * *

"Finally!" I cried dramatically as the train drew once more to a stop, this time after a much longer ride (made rather awkward due to the fact that there was a mystery professor in our compartment barring us from doing normal things like reading and discussing without feeling uncomfortable). "Come out into the corridor with me, Harry, love."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at me, mouthing, 'Love?' I rolled my eyes, making a mental note to give her a talking-to.

But not now. Now, I needed to talk to my brother.

"Was it just me?" he asked after I had closed the door behind us. "Or did he-"

"Try and call me Holly?" I finished for him. "Yep. And did he seem-"

"To recognize the name Moony?" Harry nodded. "Yeah. Do you reckon-"

"He knew our parents?" we finished together breathlessly.

"But how can we get confirmation?" I asked, tilting my head to the side to ponder this. "Granted, this could all be a coincidence, in which case divulging the secret of my identity seems like a fool's move."

"And while it would be best if I talked to him given the circumstances, you're better with your words," added Harry, continuing my train of thought. Odd how we do that sometimes, I think.

"Would we do it casually? Or make a big deal out of it?" Before we could sustain our conversation, the compartment door slid open behind us, and the other students started to file out, including Hermione and Neville, the latter of which begrudgingly pressed two Sickles – that is, the silver coin of our magical currency system (twenty-nine bronze Knuts to a silver Sickle, and seventeen silver Sickles to a gold Galleon) – into her hand. I raised an eyebrow, making yet another mental note to give her a talking-to. Sharing a secret awesome twin glance with my brother that we both understood, we followed the streamflow of students slowly trickling down the corridor and off the train.

"We're third years now, Harry," I whispered, nudging him as he looked around Hogsmeade, the small village that the Hogwarts Express had pulled into. "We're going to get to visit here!"

"Er – yeah, about that," he whispered back. I gasped dramatically.

" _You didn't get your permission slip signed_?" I hissed. "I mean, I know you blew up our aunt like a balloon and everything, but really? No permission slip?"

He shrugged. "That night was sort of the test – if I could get through one final dinner with her, and not cause any 'funny business,' as Uncle Vernon refers to it, then he'd sign my permission slip… and obviously, that didn't happen." He frowned, looking at me. "Say, did you get yours signed?"

"Nope," I replied. "Who would've signed it, anyway? But… well, I probably should have brought this up later..." I opened my book bag slightly, revealing a shimmery silver fabric that made him gasp.

" _You still have that_?" I grinned sheepishly.

"It always seems to come in handy."

See, Harry was the proud owner of what most of the rest of the wizarding world refers to as an 'Invisibility Cloak,' and what I refer to as 'The Superbly Super Shawl of Stealth' (an alliterative title that my now-thirteen-year-old self had only just managed to come up with). He had apparently inherited it from our father, and it had helped us on many ventures, breaking even more rules than we would be if we used it to sneak into Hogsmeade – the wizarding village that Hogwarts students in their third year and above were allowed to visit twice each month.

That is, if they had gotten their permission slips signed by a parent or guardian. Harry living with the Dursleys, and myself at Hogwarts under the alias of Willow Leavitt, had not gotten ours signed.

Meaning that the time had come once again for Serena the Superbly Superb Shawl of Stealth – what? It's not like I'm the only one who names their brother's clothing… alright, maybe I am – to prove herself (itself?) and for me to once again thank all of my lucky stars (and some of the unlucky ones as well) for my father descending from the awesome line of Potters and getting Serena – then simply 'the Invisibility Cloak' – from his own father.

Well, that's my assumption, at least.

We boarded the magical carriages that would haul us to school – that is, the carriages pulled by invisible horses – and Neville, Ginny, Hermione, Harry and I squished into one of the coaches only intended for four.

Needless to say, it was a bit crowded, but we finally managed, though I was practically on my brother's lap – a fact that neither of us really noticed, but Hermione was quick to pick up on, raising an eyebrow as she smirked at me.

For the third time, I made a mental note to give her a talking-to.

* * *

"SLYTHERIN!" roared the Sorting Hat, and Blair Winchester made her way over to the table on the far left.

See, Hogwarts was divided into four houses – Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin – and first years were sorted by a magical piece of enchanted clothing that would decided which they belonged to by looking into their heads and seeing their thoughts, personality traits and inner selves.

I had been sorted into Gryffindor ( _where dwell the brave at heart_ ), along with my brother, Hermione, Neville, and all seven Weasleys.

We currently sat at the table decorated with red and gold hangings, and I let out a loud cheer as food suddenly appeared on the table by magic and we were all finally free to tuck in.

My being 'starvished' earlier was nothing compared to the vicious, clawing monster that was my stomach in that moment.

"Honestly, Willow, you eat like a Weasley," commented Hermione, rolling her eyes at my rapid consumption rate.

"'Ut's 'at 'pose t'me?" mumbled Ron through a mouthful of food. Hermione and I shared similar looks of revulsion, and he swallowed, repeating, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that she believes that I eat at a speed that leads one to wonder whether I am actually chewing and swallowing my food or simply inhaling it directly into my lungs and somehow managing not to have a choking fit," I answered for her. "And by the way, Hermione, that's absolutely not true. First of all, I'm not eating quite that much, and second of all, not all Weasleys eat like Ron."

My gaze flickered pointedly towards the Weasley twins, and then Ginny (all three of whom were eating like they were perfectly normal, thank you very much), before finally resting back on my plate as I continued to stuff my face.

Ahem. I meant to say _dine._

After we had all eaten our share of both dinner and dessert, the students were at last dismissed, yawning and more than ready for bed.

Well, at least in my case. Hermione, on the other hand, was still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Only metaphorically speaking in the case of being bushy-tailed, of course, but this was not the case for her cat. The fat ginger cat with a squashed face was her new pride and joy, but I loathed 'Crookshanks.'

Yes. The vile thing had a vile name.

"I'm not sharing a dormitory with that thing," I declared after we had tiredly dragged our feet up to Gryffindor Tower (why they decided to put us in a _bloody tower_ I still couldn't fathom). Hermione scowled.

"He's not a thing," she argued, "he's an animal, and he's not bad at all."

"I'm still not sharing a dormitory with him," I replied stubbornly.

"He'll probably be out most of the night hunting," tried Hermione. I simply shook my head.

"Y'know what? Don't worry about it." I grinned, finishing buttoning my pyjama shirt. "I'm going to sleep in the common room. There's a particularly comfy sofa down there."

Before she could protest, I had closed the door of the dormitory behind me, somehow managing to make it down the stairs in my tired state, though my falling asleep when I curled up on the couch was no surprise.


	3. Of Memories and Meetings

Diary of a Discovered Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter III : Of Memories and Meetings_

 _"Go! Lily! Take Harry, take Holly!"_

 _"But, James-"_

 _"Don't worry! I'll hold him off!"_

 _"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

* * *

I gasped, shooting up as a flash of green light flooded my vision, the hand I held over my heart, the thumping I felt beneath it betraying my fear.

I shuddered, remembering the nightmare that had seemed almost… real. I remembered screaming, and green, but my recollection was quickly fading as I became more and more aware of my surroundings.

It was early, barely any sunlight shining outside. I groaned, realizing quite quickly that I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, reluctantly sitting up and letting my bare feet touch the cool floor.

 _Well, I'll have to get through the day, sleep-deprived or not_ , I thought to myself.

 _Bloody hell, this isn't going to be fun._

* * *

"Miss Leavitt – a word in my office, please," said Professor McGonagall – our head of house - as she passed out the timetables to the Gryffindors. "Miss Granger, please come as well."

We shared a glance, each of us thinking along the same lines (' _Why does she need to speak to us_?') as we got up, abandoning our breakfasts and following her out of the Great Hall, silently walking through the corridors and eventually reaching her office.

After she had closed the door behind us, Professor McGonagall quickly moved across the room, using a key to open a drawer in her desk, from which she produced two chain necklaces, each with a peculiar pendant at the end.

"These," she said, holding them out to us, "are Time Turners."

Hermione gasped. "I've read about those – they allow one to go back in time, don't they?"

Professor McGonagall nodded. "One turn of the inner ring will allow you to go back an hour. The two of you are taking several classes this year, as I understand it."

I laughed a little, remembering the small slips of paper that we had received, being told to check off at least two electives. Frustrated by the prospect of having to choose, I had simply placed a check in each box.

She handed the cool necklaces – or rather, _Time Turners –_ to us. "As you'll remember, each class lasts an hour. You can use these to travel back in time to be able to get to your classes with conflicting schedules. Remember, though, that this is a privilege, and not a right. Should I hear of you misusing either of these, they will be taken away. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," chimed Hermione and I.

"Don't let anyone see them or you using them. Don't run into your past selves. The two of you are bright girls, I know you can manage these. You are dismissed."

And with that, we left, the Time Turners hanging from gold chains under our robes.

* * *

As it turned out, however, my prediction of the day not being fun was correct, in a sense, being more terrifying than actually entertaining, but it was most definitely interesting.

I hadn't been looking forward to the day, really – first we had a Potions class with the Slytherins (the green and silver house known for its enmity with Gryffindor), which I would enjoy the educational part of, but not the educator (Professor Snape was an awful, bitter professor who enjoyed picking on his students, especially the students in Gryffindor); and a Transfiguration class that wasn't the least fun of classes, but not the most enjoyable, either.

But we had Defense Against the Dark Arts for third period, and after dragging my feet to the classroom (with great difficulty due to my dampened spirits from a brutal Potions class and a Transfiguration class I hadn't performed well in) I was rewarded for my efforts.

"Come in, come in," said Professor Lupin briskly, though he looked rather exhausted with faint but visible lines under his eyes. We filed into the classroom, though it was different from conventional rooms in that all of the desks were shoved against the wall. "Line up at the back, now – you dropped this, Miss Leavitt."

It took me a moment to realize that the paper he was holding out was intended for me – having spent an entire summer free to disclose my full name and not hide my identity – but I took it with a confused nod, not recognizing the small slip of parchment as I tucked it into my book bag.

Professor Lupin took the register, hindered by the fact that we were all enthusiastically chatting about the lesson. After getting through all of our names, and brought our attention to a closet at the front of the room, which I realized was shaking upon closer inspection.

 _A shaking closet. Oh, Merlin, this is not going to be fun_.

"This closet," Professor Lupin explained, "holds your worst fears. Some of you may not believe me when I say this, but I must ask you to remain calm..."

 _It's a Boggart._

Boggarts are creatures that immediately morph into the worst fear of the person nearest them, usually only defeated by a Riddikulus charm (which quite literally makes them look ridiculous) or being Banished (though that's rather advanced magic).

I had never faced one, and felt myself filled with a sense of dread. What would it morph into? Voldemort, perhaps? Or the green light… just the thought of it made me shudder.

It's rather frustrating to admit, but I was afraid of what was behind those closet doors.

 _You're a Gryffindor, woman up_ , I thought to myself as Professor Lupin opened the closet. A wind swept out of it, immediately taking the form of a white orb with a loud crack.

"Repeat after me," he called to those of us behind him. "Riddikulus!"

Ah, so it was a Boggart. "Riddikulus!" we chorused.

"This class is ridiculous," muttered Malfoy.

Malfoy being Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin that both my brother and I despised for being a bully, rude, and a general jerk.

I couldn't fight the slight quirk of my lip at his rather witty comment, even if it was rude and totally uncalled for.

Lupin pointed his wand at the Boggart, repeating, "Riddikulus!" Green sparks flew out of his wand, attacking the white orb and turning it into a balloon, which deflated as it flew around the room. "Who's next – Mr Thomas, come on up!"

Dean Thomas of Gryffindor hesitantly stepped up beside Professor Lupin, who adjusted the way he was holding his wand as the Boggart came back, turning into a pale figure in a dark black cloak that I guessed was a vampire. "R-Riddikulus!" stammered Dean, and the green sparks that flew out of his wand took away the vampire's dark cloak and pale skin and instead made it glimmer like a fairy. I giggled, along with the rest of the class, though our laughter was short-lived.

"Miss Patil – the Ravenclaw one!" The Patil twins – Parvati the Gryffindor and Padma the Ravenclaw (whom one would be unable to distinguish from each other had they not worn differently colored robes) – separated, and Padma gulped as she faced down the Boggart, who morphed into a mummy.

"Riddikulus!" she shouted bravely, and the bandages started to unravel themselves, leaving a pile at the Boggart's feet that vanished as Neville was called upon and it transformed with another crack.

I raised an eyebrow at the believable likeness of Professor Snape. _Well, if his worst fear is Professor Snape, mine can't be that bad, can it?_

"R-R-Riddikulus!" stammered Neville, but nothing happened.

"Don't worry, Neville," said Professor Lupin soothingly. "Think of someone you're close to..."

"My Gran!" exclaimed Neville.

"Yes, and what does your Gran wear?" continued Lupin. Ah, smart professor.

"She wears – er – a vulture hat..." Neville frowned. "I've got it! RIDDIKULUS!"

And so it was that I saw, for both the first and last time, Professor Snape wearing a lacy dress and a vulture hat.

It was both hilariously entertaining and traumatically scarring.

Several students were called upon to face the Boggart, including Hermione – for whom it turned into Professor McGonagall telling her she failed on all of her exams – and Ron – whose Boggart was a spider. Finally, after most everyone had had their turn, Professor Lupin waved his wand at the Boggart flew back into the closet, which locked itself up just as the bell rang.

"Good work, class, you're dismissed!" he called out. "Homework : none."

Much of the class cheered at this as we filed out of the classroom, all chatting about the lesson.

"Did everyone get a go except for you and I?" I asked Harry curiously as we strolled out of the classroom.

"Yeah, I noticed that too," he replied. "Do you reckon he had a reason for it?"

"No clue," I replied. "What's your worst fear, anyway?"

"I was thinking about that, but the only thing I could come up with is Voldemort." His saying the name made a couple of people flinch. "But am I really that afraid of him?"

"It's not so much fear as it is bitter resentment, I should think," I replied. "Now my worst fear is going to sound lame, isn't it?"

"Depends. Is it Madam Pince telling you the library's closed?" I laughed at the joked, shaking my head.

"I'm not quite that bookish," I replied with a grin. "No, what I'm really afraid of… is _being afraid_. I can stare down spiders and though it would pain me, I could probably take failure. But facing down a Boggart? Absolutely terrifies me."

"So..." Harry frowned. "You're afraid of Boggarts?"

"Basically, yeah," I replied. "I should call of those researchers who want to see a Boggart in its true form and have them open a closet with one. Wouldn't that be interesting?"

"Yeah," he replied with a shrug. "I suppose."

"Why are you so out of it?" I asked curiously. "You're boring. You didn't even sleep on the couch, so don't let me hear sleep deprivation as an excuse. You don't see me using that excuse, and I hardly slept a wink."

"You slept in the common room?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow. "But… isn't the sofa comfortable?"

"It's not that the sofa's uncomfortable," I replied with a sigh. "I had a nightmare."

"A nightmare?" he repeated. "So you can't tease me about having bad dreams any more?"

"Why, Harry dearest, did I _ever_ tease you for having bad dreams?" I asked in mock hurt.

He smirked, stroking an invisible beard. "Hm..." he replied. "I think… _yes_."

"So now you're going to tease me about having a dream about the night our parents died, aren't you?" He raised an eyebrow at that.

"You dreamed about the night our parents died?" he asked incredulously. "How do you know it was them, and not just your imagination?"

"Well, I'd imagine that at least some of it was my imagination filling in for the gaps in my memory," I replied, "seeing as I can't exactly remember twelve years ago that clearly, but I am just about certain that it was related to that night."

"And when you're just about certain, it means that if you turn out to be wrong, everyone automatically has permission to laugh, ridicule, and make a fool out of you, right?"

"Precisely."

* * *

We sat at the Gryffindor table at lunchtime, chatting about various things from Boggarts to breakfast (well, in in Ron's case, at least. Not all of us are quite so food-oriented).

"What do you reckon your Boggart is, eh, Willow?" asked Fred teasingly with a wink.

"Perhaps assassins?" suggested George.

"Or wild dogs," added Harry, smirking at me.

"Hey, you're the one who saw a Grim..." I muttered under my breath, nudging him.

"The undead, maybe?" offered Hermione.

"Hold on a second..." said Fred.

"We've got it…" continued George.

"Pumpernickel," the two chimed, laughing at my bewildered expression.

"Why the hell would I be scared of a type of bread?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "That's a highly illogical fear."

"And that's why it's so brilliant, our dear Willow," replied Fred with a smirk.

"Because it's so highly illogical," added George.

"I need to find something to do other than chat with you, I think it's killing my brain cells," I murmured, opening my bag to find a book. My hand brushed across a small piece of parchment, and I pulled it out, recognizing the note I had apparently 'dropped' in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Curious, I unfolded it, reading the note in a tidy scrawl.

' _Holly,_ ' it read.

' _Meet me in my office after dinner tonight. Bring your brother if you'd like._

' _-Professor Lupin_.'

I wordlessly passed it over to Harry, who read it with a similar shock showing on his face.

"What's that you've got there, Leavitt and Potter?" asked George, leaning over. Harry passed the note back to me, and I shoved it into my bag, making the twins pout.

"She's being so secretive," mumbled Fred.

"Indeed. One might be tempted to say that our young Willow didn't want us to see," added George.

"But that's preposterous, surely..." I tuned the two of them out, turning back to my lunch with both anticipation and confusion.

 _Just who_ _was_ _Professor Lupin, anyway?_

* * *

"Knock, knock knock knock knock, knock… knock knock!" I knocked in a distinct pattern, grinning at my brother, who rolled his eyes.

"Interesting knocking pattern," he commented with a shrug. "Probably would've been more interesting if it served any particular purpose."

"Ah, but Harry, that is where you're wrong," I replied, mussing his hair affectionately. "It does serve a particular purpose. Watch and learn, dear brother."

And just as I finished speaking, the door swung open, revealing Professor Lupin in all of his perfectly timed glory. I grinned at Harry as he stepped aside, gesturing for us to enter.

The office was like none I'd seen before. Various books lined shelves throughout the room – some educational, like, ' _A Guide to Dark Arts Defense_ ,' and others for entertainment, like, ' _Jane Eyre_ ' (which I had to suppress a snicker at). A tank filled with dark water rested on a table, and the desk at the front of the room was tidy and neat, with a couple of stacks of parchment, one taller than the other – he had obviously been marking them before I knocked.

"Take a seat, take a seat," he said, closing the door behind us. "In the chairs on the other side of the desk, preferably, Holly," he added, and I jumped up from his chair, sitting in the one next to Harry (which was considerably less comfortable, I'll have you know).

"How do you know my name, sir?" I asked almost immediately after sitting down.

"That relates to the question I was just about to ask you," he replied. "How did you know my nickname?"

I frowned, confused as to what he was referring to, before suddenly realizing it. "I… don't know, sir," I replied, looking down at my lap. "It just – well – slipped."

"Perhaps," he mused, "but what you fail to realize is exactly _why_ it slipped." Lupin sighed. "Harry, Holly, your parents were two of the kindest people I've ever met. Though perhaps I see them through rose colored glasses, because they were two of my best friends. I knew the two of you as babies, though I did not know that there were two of you after that Halloween night."

"So, you knew our parents, were friends with our parents, and like many others, were kept in the dark about Holly's being alive?" summarized Harry.

"Yes," confirmed Lupin. "I knew it was you the moment I saw you, Holly, you're the spitting image of your mother."

"But what if it was sheer coincidence and my name actually was Willow Leavitt?" I asked curiously. "How did you know for sure, sir?"

"Well," he replied. "Let's just say that I wasn't exactly sleeping on that train."

I gasped. "So he is not only a professor who knew our parents, but a deceiver, Harry! So incredibly resourceful. Here I was, thinking our parents were typical Gryffindors. Providing, of course, that you are a Slytherin, professor."

"You're very much like your father, Pu- Holly." I raised an eyebrow, bewildered as what he tried to say didn't escape my notice. "I trust it's a very… interesting story about why you're alive, but that's not what I needed to talk to the two of you about."

"Then what is it, professor?" asked Harry.

"The two of you had very bad reactions to the Dementors that were on the train yesterday," explained Lupin. "And I wanted to first warn the two of you to be careful around them – they are not going to be coming onto school grounds, luckily, but you should be cautious, especially when you go into Hogsmeade."

"No need to worry, professor, we won't be going," replied Harry suddenly. I rolled my eyes.

"He's still a bit dejected about not getting his permission slip signed," I explained to Lupin. "Though it's not my fault you went and blew up our aunt, Harry, so no more sulking." I turned to the professor with a smile. "Was that all you needed, professor?"

"That will be all," he replied, and scooted the chair back from his desk, Harry and I doing the same. I stopped for a moment, looking at the tank and trying to discern the creature within from the murky water.

"That's a Grindylow," explained Professor Lupin. "We'll be studying them next week."

I nodded, and on that note followed my brother out of the classroom, waving at the professor who had known my parents before shutting the door behind me.


	4. Of Consequences and Complications

Diary of a Discovered Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter IV : Of Consequences and Complications_

 _"And who am I, Harry?"_

 _"Pafoo'!"_

 _"See, James, I told you._ _Prongslet_ _likes me best."_

 _"We'll see about that. Who's he, Harry?"_

 _"Moony!"_

 _"D-Did she just..."_

 _"I believe that our bet was just called off, Sirius."_

* * *

"Hold on a second. Let me get this straight. You dreamed... about me, someone named 'Pafoo''-"

"Padfoot. It was Padfoot."

"But you said I said 'Pafoo'.'"

"Yeah. I know. But it was Padfoot, I'm certain of it."

"Alright, then... so someone called 'Sirius,' whose nickname was 'Padfoot,' a James you're about certain is our father, someone called 'Moony,' and then you and I."

"Pretty much, Harry. What do you make of it?"

"Well, I've looked it up in here... it says you're crazy."

" _Harry_!"

"Well, what else am I supposed to say? Why don't you ask Professor Trelawney?"

"What am I supposed to say to her, Harry? ' _Hey, Professor, I had a dream about my father and two of his best friends, along with my twin brother who's actually the Boy-Who-Lived, what do you make of that_?'"

Harry stared at me for a moment before breaking out in laughter.

"Only you," he got out between his chuckles. Hermione and Ron, who were sitting at our table, simultaneously raised their eyebrows.

Man, and I thought Harry and I completing each others' sentences was cool. This was mindblowing... back to topic.

"Why am I even taking this class?" I asked curiously, flipping through the assigned book. "I mean, what do dreams about balloons have to do with magic?"

"And that is why you should have actually read the electives list before checking them all off," replied Harry with a laugh. "Divination has more to do with magic than Arithmancy."

"But what if I want to... I don't know... get a species change and become a goblin at Gringotts? I'm going to need to know _some_ maths," I tried. "Okay, maybe Arithmancy is a totally useless subject."

"And let's not even get started on what Muggle Studies has to do with magic," added Ron as he tried to decipher Hermione's dream.

"It's useful to know what it's like without magic," I argued. "I might get a job where I have to interact with Muggles, I don't want to completely slaughter the terms of the International Statute of Secrecy and spill every single piece of information about our world."

"I'm sure you have enough sense not to do that," mumbled Harry. "It's not like you're half bad at keeping secrets." I rolled my eyes.

"Touché, Potter."

* * *

"What do we have next, 'Mione?" I asked after Ancient Runes as we stole into a super secret corner we had discovered.

"Care of Magical Creatures," she answered, and we each turned our Time Turners, being sent back an hour in time and quickly rushing out of the castle and to Hagrid's hut.

Hagrid – or Professor Hagrid, as he now was known – was our friend. Mine, Harry, Hermione and Ron's, that is. He was a tall, imposing man (being a half giant) but he really was a softie once one got to know him. He had newly been appointed the Care of Magical Creatures professor after serving as Gamekeeper and Keeper of the Keys (yes, Hogwarts really does have that many keys) and lived in a small hut on the edge of the school grounds.

"What do you think we'll be learning about today?" asked Hermione enthusiastically.

"Maybe some sort of magical creature," I replied with a shrug. "Knowing Hagrid, though, it'll probably be extremely dangerous. A dragon, maybe. Or a three-headed dog."

"I doubt he's going to introduce us to dragons or three-headed dogs," replied Hermione, rolling her eyes. "Or anything quite that dangerous. It wouldn't be that safe."

"Hermione," I replied, "hiring a half giant who enjoys hugging children isn't that safe either."

"Did someone say hugging children?" I turned around, raising an eyebrow at Harry, who had just appeared behind us. "What? Don't look at me like that!"

"Like what, like you just said something that made you sound stupid, 'cause in that case, my look is perfectly merited," I replied. "We were discussing Hagrid."

"Hugging children? You mean trying to kill his students?" I shot Hermione a smirk, who opened her mouth as if to defend our Care of Magical Creatures professor before said half giant appeared from the Forbidden Forest.

Oh yeah, did I mention that Hogwarts has a forest on the edge of its grounds that students are banned from entering?

"G'mornin', class!" he called out.

"G'mornin', Hagrid!" replied a few of us – namely the three Gryffindors who had just been discussing him.

"Have yeh got yer books?" he asked, pulling out a copy of the assigned book, _The Monster Book of Monsters_.

 _The Monster Book of Monsters_ was an absolutely terrifying book, in that it had fangs and its covers were jaws. I frowned, pulling out the book from my bag. Somehow, I had miraculously managed to get it to stop snapping, though others were not as lucky. I raised an eyebrow at Harry, whose book was secured shut with a belt.

"How'd you get yours still?" he questioned.

"I have no clue," I replied. "Hagrid, how were we supposed to get these books to stop trying to eat us?"

"Stop tryin' ter eat yeh?" repeated Hagrid. "Why, yeh just had ter stroke the spine!"

"Stroke the spine?" repeated a haughty voice from behind me. I turned, scowling at he who had spoken.

Malfoy.

"I thought they were books, not animals," he continued.

"Can I smack him?" I mumbled under my breath to Harry. He glanced pointedly in Hagrid's direction.

"You really shouldn't," he replied. I frowned, and made to protest, but he quickly added, "while Hagrid is looking."

I grinned as Hagrid told us to follow him, turning and starting to walk, and slowed down a little, matching pace with Malfoy before subtly delivering a swift kick to his shin and speeding up again.

"Willow!" hissed Hermione. I grinned, giving her a thumbs-up before looking at the creatures Hagrid had led us to.

In a large pen were four giant birds – if one could call them that. They seemed to be awesome hybrids, with the head, wings and talons of a giant eagle and the body and back legs of a horse.

"Can anyone tell me what these are?" asked Hagrid. I knew exactly what they were, but I was too busy gawking to answer.

Luckily, Hermione was never deterred by magnificence, and raised her hand, saying, "Hippogriffs."

"Five points ter Gryffindor," said Hagrid. I held my hand up for a high five, and Hermione rolled her eyes, leaving me hanging. "Now, can I get a volunteer? Willow?"

"Wha- oh." I realized that I hadn't bothered to put my hand down. _See what happens when you leave me hanging, 'Mione?_ "Er – sure thing, Hagrid!"

The crowd parted to let me pass, and I walked up beside Hagrid.

"Now, yeh're goin' ter have to climb over the fence an' partner up with Buckbeak – he's the one o'er there, see – and follow my instructions from there. Are we clear?"

"Sir yes sir," I replied with a salute, carefully lifting myself over the fence and approaching Buckbeak, maintaining a distance from the dangerous creature.

"Now, I want yeh to bow ter 'im, maintainin' eye contact!" shouted Hagrid. I did as he said, bowing deeply and feeling rather ridiculous as I kept my head up, looking into the dark brown orbs that were the hippogriff's eyes.

They actually narrowed at me for a moment, and I stepped back a bit as a precaution, but his front legs bent and he bowed back. I allowed myself to grin like an idiot for a moment as he got back up, listening for Hagrid's instructions.

"Good job!" he called out. "Now, yeh've got ter approach him with yer arm out, nice and slowly now... there!"

My hand was now almost touching Buckbeak's face, and I gasped as he nuzzled his forehead into my hand.

"This is the most coolest thing ever!" I exclaimed. "What now, Hagrid?"

"Now," replied Hagrid, "yeh could ride 'im, if yeh'd like."

"Shut. Up." I replied in amazement. "What do you say to that, Buckbeak?"

As if he understood (and knowing the wise creatures that hippogriff are, he probably did), the hippogriff bent his legs. I grinned, carefully stepping up to him. Buckbeak gestured for me where to put my foot with his head, and I used the ridge he had gestured to climb on top of the creature, gasping as he put out his wings, running a bit before taking off.

I held on tighter, the ride not being the most... smooth gliding. I definitely preferred a broom, but there was nothing quite like riding a hippogriff. Just as I started to relax, Buckbeak flew back to the ground, landing and allowing me to get off. I disembarked, tucking my windswept hair back behind my ear and trying to catch my breath.

"Excellent job!" called out Hagrid. "Now, the rest of yeh can get on in there. Be careful – hippogriffs are proud creatures! Don' insult one, it'll probably be the last thing yeh do."

"Hear that Harry?" I mumbled to my brother (who had just hopped the fence, along with the rest of the students). "Be good, now. Don't hurt the hippogriff... or his pride."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied, bowing and maintaining eye contact. "He's pretty beautiful, isn't he?"

"Harry, Harry, Harry..." I shook my head. "As much as I support you, I really don't think that Buckbeak is interested in a relationship."

"I'd roll my eyes if it wouldn't offend him," replied Harry.

"You're whipped, mate," I said sympathetically. "Sorry, Buckbeak... let him down easy, will you?"

I was interrupted from further teasing my brother as a girlish scream came from behind me. I flinched, and Harry broke his eye contact with his hippogriff as we simultaneously turned, staring with identical wide eyes at the student who was now on the ground.

"He insulted it, didn't he?" muttered Harry.

"Wouldn't be unlike him," I replied. "I'm trying, really I am, but somehow I can't bring myself to feel any sympathy for him."

"Malfoy deserved this, didn't he?" I frowned.

"I wouldn't say he deserved it," I replied. "But if I were in that Hippogriff's shoes, I'd've done the same."


	5. Of Injuries and Imposters

Diary of a Discovered Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter V : Of Injuries and Imposters_

"It's so damn infuriating," I ranted. "He hasn't been in class for days, rumor has it he's got his arm in a sling – the cut wasn't that deep!"

"Mhm," replied Harry idly. I frowned.

"You're not listening, right?" I asked. He nodded.

"Yeah, I agree," he answered. I huffed.

"What's got your head up in the clouds? Professor Trelawney's death predictions? Our upcoming Charms test? A certain frumpy bookworm?" I followed his stare. "Ah, so the latter..."

"Yeah – wait, what?" I grinned.

"Harry's back to Earth, I see it," I teased. "Not off in Lala Land... or should I say, Granger Land... working title, obviously..."

His cheeks flushed red as my hair. "I wasn't thinking about her," he muttered, adjusting his books in his arms. "I was just – er – thinking about our Divination class!"

"Sure you were, Harry." I smirked, winking at him. "Sure you were. Don't worry, I can keep a secret. You know it's not in my nature to blab about how you fancy my best friend to the whole of my dormitory... just certain other Gryffindor third year girls. Like my best friend."

"I was _not_ thinking about her," argued Harry, but I had already sped off with a glimmer in my eye.

A glimmer that was my joy at having yet another thing to hold over his head.

Because regardless of whether or not it's actually based on solid evidence, it's always fun to tease Harry.

* * *

"Ah, so the injured returns," I mumbled as Malfoy strolled into Potions class, his arm in the sling the gossip mill hadn't failed to inform me of. "Does he look like he lost a limb to you?"

"Not particularly, no," replied Harry.

"Hm... it's a wonder Madam Pomfrey let him take up one of her beds for that long. Last I checked, she rather enjoyed shooing people out of the Hospital Wing."

"I think that's just you." I frowned, crushing the snake fangs in the mortar a little harder than necessary.

"You mean you've never been told that it's after visiting hours, or that the patient you wanted to visit isn't taking visitors?" I asked curiously.

"Nope," he replied. "Granted, I don't usually visit the Hospital Wing when I'm not forced to by an injury."

"Wow," I mumbled. "Maybe you're right. After all, she told me Hermione wasn't taking visitors when she was Petrified..."

Harry laughed. "Well, one might think that with all the time you spend in the Hospital Wing, she'd have warmed up to you a bit."

"I don't actually spend that long in the Hospital Wing," I replied. "I mean, there was the time in first year after the incident with the Philosopher's Stone, and then the time in second year after the incident with the Chamber of Secrets – I've never had a Quidditch injury, though."

"I can change that, if you'd like." I laughed at Harry pretending to be threatening.

"You're a Seeker. What're you going to do, throw Snitches at me?" I giggled at the thought. "That would be hilarious... I can just see it making headlines... _Harry Potter of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team Injures Willow Leavitt of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team With_ _a_ _Golden Snitch_. Of course, you would be so secretly stealthy that they would never find out it was you. Someone would have to... wait for it... _snitch on you_."

He laughed. "Hey, um, is our cauldron supposed to do that?" I frowned, looking up at the pink smoke coming from the cauldron.

"No," I replied, reading through the instructions. "You added the porcupine quills too early! I need to stop distracting you!"

"Can it be saved?" I frowned.

"Maybe," I replied, rolling up my sleeves. "Dried Billywig stings and – where are those crushed snake fangs – ah, I'm crushing them. Well, that's convenient."

Harry passed me the blue bottle of Billywig stings, and I opened it, letting two drops fall into the cauldron before adding a measure of the crushed snake fangs. I frowned, crossing my fingers and letting out a sigh of relief as the pink smoke turned to cyan blue as the instructions described.

"Now, Harry," I said sternly. "I know I just saved our potion, but for goodness's sake, follow the instructions next time, alright?"

"I'll try my best," he replied, ladling it into the vial.

"Good," I replied. "Else I'll be testing our Swelling Solution on you."

He rolled his eyes. "Neither of us are particularly good at being threatening, are we?"

I laughed. "I'm totally intimidating, no clue what _you're_ talking about..."

* * *

"QUIDDITCH!" I cheered, making my way out onto the Quidditch Pitch with my borrowed school broom (affectionately named Amelia), scarlet and gold Quidditch robes, and brother. "Isn't it so exciting? Feeling the wind rush through your hair as you fly to the goal post, or in your case, as you pursue the Snitch?"

"Wow, you weren't this enthusiastic about Quidditch back in first year," commented Harry. I laughed.

"Well, in first year I was only a reserve Chaser for the first game, and unconscious for the third," I replied. "But this is the practice we've all been waiting for! Well, not really... but we're finally going to hop back on our brooms and throw balls around fifty feet up in the sky when all that really matters is the tiny little gold one that you're supposed to chase around the pitch and eventually catch! Doesn't that just sound like a sport that makes a ton of sense to you?"

"Yeah, sure," replied Harry. "Actually, when you put it like that, it really does sound silly... I mean, they could at least try and keep us on the ground. Football would be a much safer sport."

"Football?" I repeated. "Isn't that the one where they kick the ball around and try and score on the nets on either end?" Harry nodded. "But... isn't it confusing when everyone's chasing the same thing around? Like, with Quidditch, everyone gets time with their element – I get to chase Quaffles, you get to chase Snitches, and Fred and George get to chase Bludgers."

"At least it's safer," replied Harry. "So... while we're discussing totally random topics... had any interesting dreams recently?"

"Yes, I just prophesied your death in my sleep," I replied dryly. "No, no particularly interesting dreams... just the usual... dreaming about studying... dreaming about reading..."

"So basically the same thing you do while you're awake?" I laughed.

"Pretty much," I replied. "Say, why is the entirety of the Gryffindor Quidditch team gathered around looking very irritable? I mean, we're not late, are we? Wood looks about to breathe fire."

"He always does," supplied Harry. It was true – our Quidditch Captain, Oliver Wood, was more passionate about Quidditch than Professor Snape was about potions. And Snape was practically obsessed with brewing. "That is, when it comes to Quidditch and Slytherin."

I nodded in agreement. "True, but this is true anger I only saw once – that was last year, when Slytherin stole the pitch to train Malfoy."

Harry frowned. "Aren't we going to be facing Slytherin?"

"Yeah..." I replied slowly. "Why? Didn't you know that already?"

"Isn't Malfoy out with his hippogriff injury?"

Sure enough, that was the case with the angry Oliver Wood and his Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"I can't believe it," mumbled Wood. "They choose to tell us this _now_ – that we're facing Hufflepuff! We've prepared for Slytherin! Hufflepuff is completely different – they have different tactics, we can't be ready in a week!"

"Sheesh, it's just Hufflepuff," muttered George.

That was the completely wrong thing to say.

" _Just_ Hufflepuff?!" repeated Wood, rounding on him. "I can't believe it! You're not taking this seriously! Hufflepuff is _not_ a pushover! Diggory is a strong Seeker! And- What are you three doing?"

Angelina, Alicia and Katie were giggling like idiots. I rolled my eyes – it was, for some reason, common for the girls in higher years to have this reaction to Cedric Diggory.

"He's that good-looking tall one, isn't he?" asked Alicia.

"Strong and silent," added Katie as they continued their girlish giggling.

"He's only silent because he's too thick to be able to string two words together," muttered Fred. "I have no clue why you're worried, Oliver. Hufflepuff is a pushover – remember last time? Harry caught the Snitch in less than five minutes."

"This time, we'll be playing in completely different conditions!" shouted Wood. "Diggory has put a strong team together, and even though Harry beat him last time, he's an excellent Seeker... I knew you'd take it like this! We can't relax, we need to keep our focus. Slytherin is just trying to wrong-foot us! We have to win!"

For a moment, I was slightly alarmed by his ranting.

"Oliver, calm down," advised George.

"We're taking Hufflepuff seriously," I added for good measure, and Wood started to return to a normal breathing rate. " _Very_ seriously."

* * *

And though he was rather calmed by those words, the practice during the pouring rain was the most exhausting out of every practice I had had.

Including the one at four in the morning back in first year.

"Alright, I want to see all of you back out here at five o'clock tomorrow," declared Wood as we trudged back into the change rooms after practice, dripping water and getting wet mud on the hems of our Quidditch robes.

"PM?" I asked hopefully. He shook his head.

"AM."

This was followed by a collective groan.

* * *

"So, the Hogsmeade visit is coming up soon," I mused aloud as Harry and I walked to Defence Against the Dark Arts. "What do you want to do?"

"Don't know," he replied. "We could... er... yeah, I've got nothing."

I giggled. "Well, that doesn't help much," I replied. "Say, I've got something for DADA that I'd like Professor Lupin's help with, maybe... that would exclude you, though..."

"Something that you'd like his help with?" repeated Harry curiously. "Are you struggling? 'Cause that Boggart-"

"It's nothing to do with Boggarts," I replied immediately. "Well, sort of... it involves fear... we'll discuss later. Hang back after class with me?"

"If it won't land me in detention," he replied with a shrug. I winked at him with a grin, and took a seat in the classroom.

* * *

"Professor Lupin-"

"Miss Leavitt-"

I giggled at how we had said each other's names in unison. He smiled weakly.

"You go first," I said with a smile.

"I was wondering if you could stay after class," he explained. I grinned, winking at Harry over my shoulder.

"I was going to ask exactly the same thing," I replied. "What did you need, professor?"

"I actually had a question – for both you and Harry." I raised an eyebrow, and Harry finally finished his excruciatingly slow process of putting his things away (slow on purpose, of course) and showed up at my side. "Well, the Hogsmeade weekend is coming up, and I heard the two of you hadn't gotten your permission slips signed... I was wondering if you could join me in my office for a cup of tea."

"Sure thing, professor," replied Harry.

"If," I added, "you would be willing to help me out with a thing or two in Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"You aren't struggling, Holly," replied Professor Lupin, looking at me concernedly.

"It's not in the curriculum," I replied. "In fact, it's not even in the seventh years' curriculum... but if there's anyone that could teach me how to cast a corporeal Patronus, it's you."

"I-" He was lost for words.

"Assuming, of course, that you do know how to cast one," I gushed. "I mean, if you can't, it's quite alright, but the Dementors affect Harry and I more than anyone else and I was just wondering-"

He held up a hand, and I immediately stopped talking. "I can cast one," he said. "I assume you've done your research, though..."

I nodded. " _The Patronus charm is a highly difficult one to master, even for many adult wizards. The youngest wizard to date was only sixteen when he managed to conjure a fully formed corporeal Patronus_ ," I recited. He nodded.

"That being said, it's very likely that you won't be able to actually produce one-"

"But could you at least try and teach me?" I asked. " _Pleeeeease_?"

He sighed. "I suppose I could, Pu- Holly," he replied. I frowned at how he had slipped up again, but didn't say anything. "Harry, would you like to learn as well?"

"Absolutely," replied Harry determinedly. "At one o'clock, then?"

"I'll see the two of you then."

* * *

Ron and Hermione had gotten their permission slips signed, and so Harry and I watched them leave for Hogsmeade the next day, both of them promising they'd bring us back something.

After the last carriage had departed, I turned to Harry, affixing him with a frown. "Reckon we should get going to Professor Lupin's office, then?"

"Sounds good to me," he replied. "Race you there?"

I smirked. "Oh, you're _on_ , Harry," I replied, and started to run.

"No fair! I hadn't said go!" he called after me.

"I'd have won even without a head start!" I taunted.

* * *

"Go ahead."

"I think I'll let you."

"Go on."

"Make me."

"Afraid?"

Our infamous argument – well, not exactly infamous nor an argument, more so an unavoidable challenge that we initiated far too often – was interrupted as Professor Lupin opened the door.

"Come in, come in," he said, stepping back and gesturing us in. "Tea?"

"Aren't we... here for tea?" I asked, looking at Harry curiously. "We were here for tea, weren't we? Goodness, did I completely forget the purpose of our visit? Aren't you supposed to-"

Harry laughed. "We'll take two cups," he said to Professor Lupin, who chuckled a little before filling a couple of tea cups, which he handed to my brother and I.

"Professor," spoke up Harry as he gratefully took the drink, "how come Holly and I were the only ones who didn't get to face our Boggarts?"

I frowned for a moment, wondering if we had really been the _only_ ones, before I realized that, indeed, we had been.

Had he been worried about what we would have been afraid of?

"Well," replied Professor Lupin, evidently hesitant about how to breach the topic, "I was worried that the two of you... would, well, fear Voldemort." I gasped.

"You... said his name..." I breathed, staring at him with with wide eyes as I took a deep drink of the tea he had given me.

"Sorry if I scared you, Pu- Holly," he said quickly.

"We're not afraid of Voldemort's name," replied Harry.

"Why is she rocking back and forth like that?" asked Professor Lupin. Harry frowned, turning to face me.

"Holly?"

* * *

 _"_ _Boo!"_

 _"EEK!"_

 _He laughed, an odd bark-like chuckle._

 _"Sorry if I scared you, Pup," he said, ruffling her hair with a large hand. "You've got to admit it, Prongs, she's far too jumpy."_

 _Another laugh– a deep, hearty one that hushed her whimpers and filled her with a sense of comfort._

 _"Let's just hope she never meets Mad-Eye, Padfoot."_

* * *

My eyes suddenly snapped open as I sat up with a shudder.

The tea cup I had been drinking from was now in Professor Lupin's hands as he frowned at me concernedly.

"I-" I looked around the room, trying to reassure myself that I was, in fact, back in Professor Lupin's office. "Sorry, I just kind of – spaced out there."

Harry raised an eyebrow at me but didn't question it.

"Where were we?"

"I was just telling you that the reason I didn't want the two of you to face the Boggart was because I didn't want Voldemort to appear," explained Professor Lupin, cautiously handing back the tea. Harry laughed weakly.

"To be honest, I'm more worried about the Dementors right now," he replied. I nodded in agreement.

"Odd," mused Professor Lupin. "Afraid of Dementors... the very embodiment of fear... you fear _fear_ , Harry. Very wise." He cast his gaze to me. "What about you, Holly?"

"Boggarts," I replied immediately. "He's afraid of fear, I'm afraid of _being_ afraid..."

He raised an eyebrow. "I see," he replied. "Well, that should make this much easier. Your fear is so similar to Harry's that a Boggart would likely take the form of a Dementor and, when faced with you, keep that form..."

"So, you're going to have us fight a Boggart Dementor for practice in producing Patronuses?" I asked for confirmation. He nodded.

"But before we can even consider starting that, there's a vital portion of the spell casting that has nothing to do with your magical ability or bravery... but rather, what's on the inside."

"You're going to need to think of a happy memory – not just acing a pop quiz, or a delectable meal – but a powerful memory that fills you with a sense of joy."

"What's yours, Professor?" asked Harry curiously. Professor Lupin just shook his head.

"That's for another time," he replied. "And-"

The door swung open, and Professor Snape entered without even knocking with a steaming goblet. I frowned at it as it was set on the desk.

"Thank you, Severus," said Professor Lupin, and Snape nodded briskly before leaving the room. "I suppose it'll be about time for the two of you to leave now... how does next Sunday sound, at the same time?"

"Sounds good, professor," chimed Harry and I.

"We'll be there," continued Harry.

"With our happy memories," I finished, and Harry and I left the office.

"What was that?" asked Harry as he closed the door behind us.

I slid down against the wall, tucking up my knees and resting my chin on them. "I had another – one of those resurfacing memories... it _was_ Padfoot."

"But – don't you usually have them while you're asleep?" asked Harry confusedly. I nodded.

"This time, I had a trigger," I replied. "Remember what Professor Lupin said? 'Sorry if I scared you, Pu-.' I guess the voice was familiar and my mind linked it to a voice from a similar time frame saying almost the exact same thing."

"'Sorry if I scared you, Pup.'"

Harry stared. "He was trying to call you 'Pup?'" he asked. I nodded. "Well, that's... wow..."

"Yeah." I sighed. "Now that I've had a ton of strange memories, I really am considering dropping Divination." Harry laughed.

"If I had a ton of other classes to fall back on, I'd feel the same way," he replied.

* * *

"I can't believe they'd wait until a _week_ before the match to tell us we're going up against Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin," ranted Harry. I raised an eyebrow, listening to his ramblings with half an ear as we walked out to the pitch. "And there's not even anything _wrong_ with Malfoy's arm!"

"They're Slytherins," I replied with a shrug. "What did you expect? Them to act all noble and inform us the day Malfoy was slashed that he would be unfit to participate?" I frowned. "They probably didn't expect him to be out so long, anyway. After all, he shouldn't have been."

The stands were already half filled with cheering fans – I saw a wave of red and gold that could only be the Gryffindors, and a yellow and black group (looking rather like a bumblebee) on the other side.

" _Gryffindor will be versing Hufflepuff today_ ," rang out Lee Jordan's voice – the twins' friend was the Quidditch commentator. " _They would have been going up against_ _Slytherin, but the snakes chickened out-_ "

"JORDAN!" shouted McGonagall. Ah, how I had missed the liveliness of Quidditch and the sassiness of the commentator and the general exhil- I should stop rambling.

Harry and I joined the rest of the team out on the pitch, gathering around Madam Hooch (the Flying coach).

"Captains, shake hands," she instructed, and the guy who the girls had described as 'strong and silent' stepped forward, shaking hands with Wood.

"Mount your brooms." Harry shot me a look as he put his leg over his, as I was trying very hard not to laugh at her wording. She let go of the Snitch, blowing her whistle loudly, and all fourteen Quidditch players kicked off from the ground, Katie Bell of Gryffindor catching the Quaffle as soon as it was let up and speeding off towards the other end of the pitch.

The match had begun.

* * *

" _We're about an hour into the match, and Gryffindor leads 120-70!_ " I grinned as the crowd cheered. " _No sign of the Snitch from either side_."

"Holly," Harry said quickly, flying up to me. I frowned.

"What?" I asked. He took a hand off his broom, using it to point to the ground. I gasped.

Barely visible were four hooded figures.

"Dementors," I breathed. "Harry, are – _are you alright_?"

He looked like he had just seen a ghost (well, that's probably not a very good example, seeing as there were plenty of ghosts within Hogwarts), and suddenly his broom flew off without him as he fell to the ground.

Cheering went up in the crowds, but I was oblivious to it as the whole of the Gryffindor team sped to the ground, gathering around where he had hit the ground. Thankfully, one of the professors had managed to cast a charm to cushion his fall, but he was still unconscious.

"Why are they cheering?" muttered Fred. One look up to the sky answered his question.

Diggory had caught the Snitch.

* * *

"Good thing the ground was cushioned."

"Thought he'd be dead for sure." I shot Fred a look for his unnecessary comment. "But his glasses didn't even break! That's a good thing!"

"Quiet, he's waking up," I hissed, looking at Harry, whose pained expression clearly revealed the fact. He opened his eyes, blinking a couple of times. "How you feeling, Harry?"

"What happened?" he asked, sitting up so suddenly that the girls took a step back.

"There were Dementors, and you fell off your broom," explained Angelina Johnson, another Chaser.

"Must have been fifty feet," supplied Alicia Spinnet.

"We thought you'd died." I shot George a look. "Well, I did, at least."

"What happened to the Dementors?" asked Harry.

I frowned, looking to the others. I hadn't actually seen what had happened.

"Dumbledore cast a Patronus, and the giant silvery phoenix scared them off," explained Fred.

"Alright, leave him in peace," said Madam Pomfrey, the mediwitch, shooing most of the still robe-clothed Quidditch team from his bed. Hermione, Ron and I didn't move, and she sighed. "I suppose you can stay... five minutes!"

"Did anyone get my Nimbus?" asked Harry after she had left. Ah, typical Harry. More worried about his broom than himself. I looked to Ron and Hermione, who shook their heads.

"Well, when you fell off, your broom blew away..." Hermione looked forlorn. "And, oh, Harry – it hit the Whomping Willow."

"Of all the trees it could have hit, it _had_ to be the one that hit back," I mumbled. "You and that tree have a bad relationship."

Harry looked so sad one would think he had lost a beloved pet rather than a broomstick.

He had had that broom since first year, when he had made it on to the team.

"Alright, everyone out!" said Madam Pomfrey, shooing us away. I sent Harry a sad smile as I waved goodbye.

Poor thing.


	6. Of Permission and Patronuses

Diary of a Discovered Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter VI : Of Permission and Patronuses_

After Ron and Hermione returned from the Hogsmeade trip – which I affectionately referred to as their 'first date' – the three of us had walked together to the Hallowe'en feast.

"Goodness, I do hope that this year, the curse of Hallowe'en horrors won't continue," I mused aloud, eating some of the pudding. Harry shushed me.

"You're going to jinx it!" he hissed, glaring at me for a moment before the two of us burst out into laughter.

"Hey, Harry, Willow, the two of us got you some things from Honeydukes – we could head back up to Gryffindor tower, skip the crowd..." Hermione looked at us curiously.

I cast a wistful gaze towards the rest of my pudding. "I suppose we could go up..." I sighed.

"I guarantee that what we've got you is better than that pudding," declared Ron. I stared at him.

"Is that even _possible_?"

"You bet it is."

"Hurry, Harry!"

* * *

"Is it just me, or does it seem strangely quiet?" I asked as we approached the portrait entrance. "Don't we usually at least hear the Fat Lady having a conversation by now?"

"Maybe she's asleep," suggested Harry. I raised an eyebrow.

"She wouldn't sleep during a feast, what if random students like ourselves were to come back early and spot her with rollers in her-" I stared at one of the portraits of a bull, behind which a lady was cowering.

A Fat Lady.

"What happened?" I whispered as the others kept walking.

"It was _him_ ," she replied, her eyes wide with horror. I looked back towards her own portrait.

"Who?" I queried further.

"The man who we do not speak of!" she replied dramatically. " _S-S-Sirius Black_."

I gasped, racing up the stairs to where the other three stood speechless in front of a slashed painting.

"Oh, Merlin," I mumbled. "Alright, the four of us should probably get out of here before-"

" _Out of my way, move, Head Boy coming through_!" shouted out Percy Weasley, parting the crowd that had formed. He looked from the slashed portrait to his younger brother. "What happened here?"

"Sirius Black was in the castle," I replied, trying to slow my rapid breathing. "He broke in to the castle... you can ask the Fat Lady over there if-"

My vision was flooded with darkness, and I collapsed to the ground in a dead faint.

* * *

 _"_ _No way, Prongs, she is totally going to say 'Padfoot' first."_

 _"Honestly, James, Sirius, are the two of you arguing again over what Holly's first word will be?"_

 _"Well, what do you think, Lily-Flower?"_

 _"Yes, Lily, do tell."_

 _"I think... that the two of you shouldn't be betting on this!"_

 _"Brilliant idea, Lily, we should really bet on this."_

 _"Yes, thanks, love."_

 _"Men..."_

* * *

"This is not the dormitory," I mumbled, opening my eyes to the night sky.

 _Wait, the night sky? I didn't fall asleep outside, did I?_

I was not, in fact, outside (thank Merlin for that), rather, in the Great Hall - ah, the enchanted ceiling that had intrigued me since first year was above me.

Lying on a sleeping bag.

Surrounded by various other students, most of whom were lying on sleeping bags.

"Did someone declare a spontaneous sleepover in the Great Hall?" I muttered, looking around.

"More or less," replied Harry, making me jump and stare at him. "We got back to Gryffindor tower, the Fat Lady was gone, Sirius Black had slashed her portrait, and you fainted, and shortly after all of the students were rounded up and brought here."

I nodded slowly, my gaze flickering over Ron, Hermione, and various other familiar faces' sleeping forms before I gasped as realization struck me.

" _Black's in the castle_?" I asked, my eyes wide.

"They've searched it, they didn't find him," replied Harry quickly. I frowned.

"They haven't found him..." I murmured. Somehow, the revelation did nothing to slow my racing heart.

"So, what's the facial expression for? You look like you just saw a ghost – well, that's probably not the best of analogies..."

I laughed weakly, and looked around before crawling onto his sleeping bag. "Alright, I don't want anyone else to hear this, they'll think I'm crazy-"

"-Not that they don't already," added Harry with a quiet laugh as I smacked him.

"-but I had another dream of the past," I finished. "James and Sirius were arguing – well, not really _arguing –_ over what my first word would be, and then Lily came in and said they shouldn't be betting on it... and then, having not actually been betting, they thanked her for the idea."

"Maybe the voices in your head had a child?" suggested Harry. I mock glared at him.

"Honestly, how many Jameses and Lilies do you know?" I asked. "The coincidence is just... too great for it to just be my imagination."

"So you're saying that you think all of this is really just a coincidence?"

"Exactly, Harry."

* * *

"I do not agree with the professors' new choice of Gryffindor tower guardian," I decided as we walked from an eventful Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

Eventful in that Professor Snape had been teaching it because Professor Lupin was apparently ill, and had decided to teach us about werewolves.

"There's nothing wrong with Sir Cadogan," replied Harry. "Alright, maybe he is a little..."

"Mean? Mad? _Positively insane_? Or non compos mentis – which is, by the way, the new password."

"The new password?" repeated Harry. "Didn't he just change it to _Rabblerazzers_ four hours ago?"

"Yep," I replied. "He changed it to non compos mentis five minutes ago 'cause he got bored of rabblerazzers."

"What does that even _mean_?" asked Harry. I grinned.

"It's a Latin term," I replied. "Meaning 'not of sound mind.' Non translates to not, compos translate to having command, and mentis translates to of mind. Quite literally, not having command of mind."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "You're non compos mentis," he declared, rolling his eyes. I laughed.

"If anyone is, it's Snape," I replied. "I mean, like, honestly? Teaching us about werewolves? We do _not_ need to know what's on page 394 when we're still on pages 192 and 193. Plus, that diagram scarred me for life."

"Which one is that?"

"The... scarring one."

* * *

The next weekend was a Hogsmeade weekend. Almost all of the third years and upper years were lined up at the Entrance Hall, the third years with their permission slips.

The only third years that weren't in the cue were Harry and I.

"Got any aces, my dear brother?" I asked with a grin, taking the two cards he handed me with a grin and a wink. "Got any eights?"

"Go fish," he replied, and I scowled, picking up a seven from the deck. "Got any fours?"

"Go fish," I answered.

Really. I had honestly been unable to think of any better way to spend the time than by playing cards – well, I had, but Harry had shot down my suggestion of shooting Tickling Charms at the other students as they exited the castle.

It had been a good idea, really.

"Got any eights?" I gaped at him like a fish, before scowling as I handed him the three eights and he set down his book. "Got any sevens?"

I handed him the seven.

"Got any aces?"

I handed him two aces.

"Got any twos?"

"Alright, there's something messed up about this," I declared, reluctantly passing over two twos. "No fair. I should really not have suggested playing cards with someone who can read my mind."

"Just lucky guesses," he replied with a wink, looking from his hand to the one card in mine. "So, Holly, got any Queens?"

"I give up," I decided, handing him the last card in my hand and scowling at the cards left in the draw pile. "This is a bewitched deck. Or you're a crazy talented guesser." I looked at him curiously. "Have you been paying attention in Divination? 'Cause I don't think Professor Trelawney taught us this, but that's the one class that would teach us that... and that you pay more attention in than I."

He chuckled. "Well, now that that's foiled, what should we do?" I frowned, tilting my head to the side as I contemplated it, idly shuffling the cards.

"Ah, our favorite firsties!" interrupted Fred before I could suggest another activity. I raised an eyebrow at the Weasley twins as they approached us.

"We're third years now," I corrected. "Why... are you carrying that piece of parchment like it's delicate with grins on your faces and it's probably not _just_ a piece of parchment, is it?"

George laughed. "You've got that right, Potter," he replied. "This here is something we like to call..."

"Brilliant."

"Amazing."

"The secret to our success."

"Though the creators called it the Marauder's Map."

I raised an eyebrow. "The Marauder's Map?" I repeated. "What is it, like, a map of Hogwarts? Sorry to break it to the two of you... but we kind of know our way around by now."

"Ah, but that, young Holly, is where you are half-right," said George, taking a seat beside Harry.

"See, it is a map," explained Fred, sitting down beside me.

"But no ordinary map," chimed the twins, holding out the piece of parchment between us.

"It's... blank..." I muttered slowly.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," declared Fred, holding his wand to the paper. I gasped as words appeared on the page, reading them eagerly.

" _Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs_

 _Purveyors of Aid to Magical Mischief-Makers_

 _are proud to present_

 _THE MARAUDER'S MAP_ "

"Woah," muttered Harry as the names disappeared and were replaced by an entire map of Hogwarts.

Not just the version drawn on the backs of our timetables. This map showed entrances and exits, secret passages and empty rooms, and even footsteps.

"Wait, what are the footsteps for?" I asked, taking off my glasses and rubbing them on the sweater Fred was wearing before putting them back on. "Are those..."

"Names above the footsteps?" supplied George with a grin. "Yes."

"So this is how you manage to never get caught... and find people when they're hiding from you..." muttered Harry. "This is brilliant."

I frowned suddenly. "Who were the purveyors of aid to magical mischief-makers?" I asked curiously.

"Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs," answered Harry. I gasped.

"So... wicked," I muttered. "Why are you showing us this, anyway?"

"We're not just showing it to you, young Potters," replied Fred.

"We're giving it to you," added George.

Harry stared at them like they had just grown two more heads to add to the two they had already. "You're... giving us this?"

The twins grinned.

"Couldn't have our favorite firsties staying back for the Hogsmeade trip now, could we?" asked Fred rhetorically.

"We're third years," I argued, "but how are we supposed to get into Hogsmeade?"

"There's seven exits to the castle," answered George. "Filch knows of these four, this one is blocked off – but this is the one the two of you can take."

He pointed to a small tunnel with a small statue near the entrance. "You can thank us later." George got up, shooting us winks over his shoulder as he rushed to join the other students leaving for Hogsmeade legitimately.

"Mischief managed," said Fred with a wink, tapping the map again with his wand before joining his twin.

"Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, eh?" Harry nudged me with his elbow. "Recognize any of those?"

"Yeah," I breathed. "Professor Lupin was Moony... the serious guy was Padfoot... our father was Prongs..." I frowned. "I don't remember a Wormtail, though."

"Maybe he was their friend back in school," replied Harry with a shrug. "Well, I assume you want to get to Hogsmeade while there's still daylight..."

I grinned, pulling out a magical enchanted item he recognized well.

"You _still_ have that?"

* * *

"Ow, that's my foot."

"Well, sorry, Holly, it's kind of hard to regard your personal bubble when we're cramped up together under my Invisibility Cloak with a map in front of us- _ow, that's my head_!"

"Well, sorry, Harry, it's kind of hard to regard your personal bubble when you're being an arse." I frowned. "So, it should be here. There's the statue – do you see a tunnel?"

"Nope," replied Harry, looking around and back to the map. "Hey, look at this." He pointed to our names, where a speech bubble had appeared with the word, 'Dissendium.' "Do you reckon we have to speak the word?"

"I reckon we have to tap this statue of a one-eyed witch with our wands and cast the spell to reveal the passageway," I replied with a shrug. "Dissendium."

The witch slid forward, revealing a tunnel. I cheered, high-fiving Harry. "So, you first, then?"

"I knocked on Professor Lupin's door, it's your turn," he replied. I scowled, but stepped into the tunnel, letting out a scream as my foot slid out from under me. "Holly? Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine," I called back. "It's a slide!"

And he followed me down, landing with an, "Oomph."

"It's a narrow tunnel," he observed. I raised an eyebrow, though in the darkness it was impossible to see. "So, we just have to walk along here?"

"Basically, yeah," I replied. "Follow my lead."

* * *

"Damn, you're light," muttered Harry as he helped me out of the tunnel. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Is that a compliment?" I asked confusedly. He shrugged.

"An observation," he replied. "So, where are we?"

I looked around the room – filled with boxes. "I'd say we're in a cellar," I replied, looking into one of the opened boxes. "A cellar of a candy store. What's the candy store in Hogsmeade called again? Honeyduchess?"

"Honeydukes," corrected Harry with a laugh. "Well, you were close, at least."

I carefully opened a trapdoor above a ladder. "Well, since I just went through that tunnel first and found out the hard way that it started with a slide – my back end is mad at you for that, by the way – it's your turn."

He sighed, but climbed up the ladder before holding down a hand to help me up. I quickly grabbed it, following him up the ladder.

"Well, I can't exactly say I've ever seen this much candy in one place in my life," I commented, looking around the store dazedly. "Look! There's so much candy! Wait, what are we supposed to be looking for, again?"

"We're _supposed_ to be looking for Ron and Hermione," he replied. "You've still got that Invisibility Cloak, right?"

"Harry, this place is so crowded that we couldn't get caught in here if they had every single professor out looking for us," I replied, searching the vicinity for Ron and Hermione. I caught sight of a head of bushy brown hair and another of red, and quickly nudged Harry, pointing out our friends.

"I doubt Harry would particularly enjoy those," I could hear Hermione saying as we drew nearer.

"Yeah, they look gross," I agreed. "Too many legs, you know?"

The jar – thankfully made of Unbreakable glass – crashed to the floor as Hermione whipped around to stare at us with wide eyes.

"Harry? Willow?" she gasped out. "I thought – you didn't get your permission slips signed!"

"Merlin," breathed Ron. "You've learned how to Apparate!"

All of us turned to face him with raised eyebrows.

"No," I replied, shaking my head slowly. "Just... no."

"Then – how-"

"Not important," I replied. "Well, actually, I suppose it's quite important, but on the other hand, so is perusing the sweet selections of this here store."

"Blood... pop?" muttered Harry, picking something up. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Out of all the things you could possibly have chosen to pick up," I drawled, "you chose the one sweet that was marketed towards vampires. Are you sure you don't suck blood?"

He rolled his eyes. "I was curious, not genuinely interested," he replied, setting it back. "So... this is Honeydukes."

"Yep," replied Ron. "Pretty spectacular, isn't it?"

"Willow," said Hermione, "what are you looking at?"

"Who, me?" I asked. "Nothing – nothing at all... just... out the window... y'know..."

In reality, I had been looking at Zonko's Joke Shop across the street. But there was no good in letting her know that.

After all, this was Hermione Granger, who follows the rules to the letter. If she had known I was looking at the store that sold goods designed to break said rules...

...even the mere thought of it makes me shudder.

"So, we were just going to finish up in here," explained Hermione, "and then head into The Three Broomsticks – that's the pub – for a cup of Butterbeer... and then..."

"Wow, sounds like the two of you are on a date," I replied. "Harry and I could always just... you know... leave the two of you by your lonesome... I mean, obviously, you would want some one-on-one time, right?"

" _No_ ," replied Hermione and Ron firmly, after which the two of them frowned at each other. I winked at Harry.

"Come on, Harry dearest," I said with a grin. "Let's leave these two lovebirds alone... I hear that The Three Broomsticks has a really delicious secret menu option."

And so the two of us left Hermione and Ron alone together in Honeydukes, walking arm-in-arm (by my insistence, of course) to The Three Broomsticks, ensuring that we remained inconspicuous enough not to be noticed by any professors.

"This smells odd," I declared as we walked through. Harry raised an eyebrow at me. "Oh, I see – hurry, quick!"

I grabbed him by the arm, pulling him to one of the tables in a more secluded area.

"What are we doing?" he whispered harshly. I put a finger to my lips, and ducked under the table, beckoning him to join me. "Alright, if you weren't my sister, I would be finding you very creepy by this point."

I winked at him, pulling out a silvery cloak from my bag and draping it over the two of us.

"There's a table full of professors over there," I explained in a hushed voice. "If they see the two of us, they're either going to think we're a couple of third years on a really cute first date or know that we didn't get our permission slips signed and put us into detention. Unless you'd like to operate on the assumption that the professors are totally going to buy the fact that you're dating your sister, we're going to have to stay under the Invisibility Cloak."

"Wonder what they're talking about?" mused Harry aloud. I shrugged, having no idea of what they would be conversing about in hushed voices.

Unless...

"They're going to go upstairs," I mumbled. "Madam Rosmerta – I think that's the barmaid's name – is telling them they can go, and they're going to follow her..." I tightened my hand around the fabric of the cloak we were under. "We can follow them – that is, if... you're willing to break a few rules in order to satiate your curiosity."

"Since when have I not been willing?" he replied. I grinned. "After all, we are the school's resident detectives."

"Precisely, my dear Watson," I replied, and with a lot of careful maneuvering, we managed to get out from under the table and up the stairs without the cloak slipping up and revealing us.

"What're they saying?" I whispered, as we leaned up against the door behind which the professors had disappeared.

"I can't hear them over you," he replied, and I scowled, pressing my ear to the wood.

"Yes, what with the threat of Black, it would be very dangerous for the boy to come into Hogsmeade," I could hear one of them – Professor Flitwick, it sounded like – saying.

'The boy?' I mouthed to Harry with a frown. He shrugged.

"I still can't believe that Black would do such a thing," sighed a voice I couldn't recognize – almost definitely not one of our professors, so I assumed it must have been Madam Rosmerta. "He and Potter were such good friends back in school..."

Harry's eyes widened, and he fixed me with an incredulous gaze. I shook my head.

"Didn't you hear?" asked Professor McGonagall's voice. "They're saying that Potter trusted Black – to keep his secret, you see – and that Black betrayed him to... You-Know-Who. They were the best of friends... Potter even made Black Harry's godfather."

An almost inaudible gasp escaped from under the Invisibility Cloak – well, two simultaneous ones, rather. I watched with wide eyes as instinct kicked in and Harry started to run, myself only barely able to keep up with him and under the cloak at the same time.

"Harry, calm down!" I hissed as we slipped through the open doors and out into the snowy woods behind the pub. "It's-"

"He was their friend!" he exclaimed, throwing himself down on a tree stump. "Didn't you hear? He _betrayed_ them, to Voldemort! They trusted him, and he just threw it all away!"

"Harry-"

"No, Holly," he replied. "I don't _want_ to hear excuses for him. He was a murderer, and he's... he's my godfather. My bloody _godfather_ , Holly-"

"Who's to say," I whispered, my voice hardly staying even, "that only one of the Potter twins has an escaped convict for a godfather?"


	7. Of Maps and Mystery

Diary of a Discovered Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter VII : O_ _f Maps and Mystery_

Harry had been taking the news of Sirius Black being his godfather rather hard, if his attitude was anything to go by.

Not Ron, nor Hermione, nor even I had been able to slip past the defense he had put up after that day in Hogsmeade.

And so, to monitor him, I had taken to stalking him throughout the corridors – made easier by the fact that we shared all of the classes he was taking, but harder by the fact that after every class I had to go back in time to attend the other one or two.

But I was able to pinpoint when exactly he would go down to dinner, to classes, and where he would hang out after them...

What? It's not _that_ creepy to stalk your twin brother, is it?

When we were separated, however, we were weak. When apart, our strength fell – as odd as it sounded, we had grown rather close, and the barrier he had put up between himself and the rest of the world was also starting to take a toll on how protected we were.

I had walked with him almost everywhere before – to Quidditch practices, to classes, to lunch... and I had always had another person to grant protection against... well, everything.

So I was worried when I walked out alone to Hagrid's hut one day, weary with the Time Turner hanging heavily around my neck, and unable to fight the Dementors that lurked on the outside of the grounds.

My worry only grew when I heard something that sounded like a foghorn from within the small wooden shack.

"Hagrid?" I called out, putting my ear up to the door. Hearing no response, I knocked quickly, my panic growing when I didn't hear Fang – Hagrid's boarhound – barking at the door, as he usually did when I came to visit.

"Who's there?" I heard Hagrid's voice shout. _Good, he isn't dead_.

"It's Willow!" I answered. He opened the door.

"Come in, then," he said, and I frowned. His face was stained with tears, and he held a giant handkerchief that looked more like a beach towel.

"What happened?" I asked, hesitantly taking a seat on one of the chairs.

"It's awful," he replied, sitting down and sliding an envelope across the table to me. I frowned, quickly reading it, my eyes widening with horror as I neared the end.

"They're – they've sentenced him to death?" I gasped out. "For attacking a student? They – they can't do that, can they? They can't sentence a Hippogriff to death, Malfoy provoked him!"

"Try tellin' tha' ter Lucius Malfoy," replied Hagrid sadly. "He's one of the school governors, yeh know, and wouldn' put up with a hippogriff that hurt 'is son."

"It's horrible," I mumbled. "Inhumane, simply _awful_. That'd be... like putting Fang to death for biting me if I stuck my finger in his mouth!" I looked back to the letter. "Well, at least you've got until April to give him the best last months a hippogriff could ask for, right?"

He sniffled, giving me a sad smile. "Yeh're right," he replied, taking the letter back. "At least 'e'll get to live as a free 'ippogriff while 'e can..."

I got up to leave, and he opened the door for me. Before I left, I engulfed him in a hug – well, actually, he engulfed me, seeing as he was a half giant.

"Don't worry," I whispered. "It'll be alright, Hagrid."

And so I left with a heavy heart, thoroughly exhausted, emotionally and physically.

* * *

"Dementors are creepy," I mumbled to myself, walking back to the castle alone and regarding them with caution. "Their cloaks are, like, black and engulfing and tattered and they're just so... well, I sound like an idiot now, so I probably shouldn't finish that sentence."

I stopped in my tracks, not out of any real necessity like being about to bump into someone or hearing an odd noise, but simply because I felt like sitting down.

At least twenty feet away from the Dementors, obviously, but let it be said that I did, in fact, sit down.

The crisp wintry air chilled me, even through my thick Gryffindor scarf and gloves (which they actually gave Gryffindors in their first year for free. I mean, like, honestly. I hear that the Ravenclaws have to _buy_ them. Talk about lion pride... heh, get it, 'cause a group of lions is called a pride?). It was midway through December already, and after Hallowe'en, most students weren't out of doors except during classes.

Both due to the fact that there were giant, scary Dementors and due to the fact that some of them believed Sirius Black might try and kill them.

Rubbish, if you ask me.

It was as I sat out on the grounds, alone and watching the Dementors with a mixed sense of curiosity and fear, that I was approached by a large dog.

I raised an eyebrow at the creature, reaching out to it cautiously. It woofed tamely, nudging me with its nose. I laughed.

"Aw, you're such a cutie," I cooed.

Well, maybe 'cutie' wasn't the best of ways to describe a giant dog, but at the time my dictionary of better words was inaccessible due to the general awesomeness that is dogs.

I liked dogs, really, I did. I had only really ever encountered three – there was Hagrid's boarhound, Fang; Hagrid's giant and much less pleasant three-headed dog, Fluffy; and the one wagging its tail as I petted it now – and the wonder of experiencing animals had been new to me at first with Fang and had somehow never ceased to bring a smile to my face.

Well, I guess that's what happens when you live a sheltered life.

I looked from the Dementors to the dog now sitting beside me. "They affect animals too, don't they?" I mumbled almost inaudibly. The dog nodded – well, that was what it seemed like. "That must suck. I mean, it's not like they're meant to scare anyone but Sirius Black, and you're not him, are you?" I laughed slightly. Here I was, talking to a dog. "You look familiar..." I muttered, examining the dog further. "That's odd... 'cause I'm sure I'd remember you if I had seen you before. I've only seen, like, two other dogs before now."

I shook my head. My mind must have been playing tricks on me. The dog tilted its head, and in my slightly less rational mind hindered by thoughts of dogs, I could have sworn it was curious.

"I'd tell you more about it," I said, sighing as I looked out onto the Black Lake that surrounded Hogwarts like a moat. "But, you know, in every story - and I would know, I mean, like, I've read quite a few - where someone ends up talking to a dog, or an inanimate object someone else overhears the conversation or the dog turns out to actually be a person and that's not a plot device I'd really like whoever is recording my life to use. "

The dog laid down its head on my leg, seemingly sad over the fact – though again, it was a dog, not a person – and I sighed.

"I don't know how, or why, but I do know you from somewhere," I declared. "Well, I'm going back up to the castle now... see you around, doggie."

The dog whined, but took its head off of my lap as I got up, brushing dirt off my robes and pulling my gloves back on – I had taken them off when I sat down. The dog tilted its head to the side again, and (my rational thoughts still impaired by doggy presence) I somehow read pride in its eyes.

I laughed. "Yep, I'm a Gryffindor," I declared with a smile. "Lion pride, you know... ah, never mind, dogs don't understand puns."

But for some reason, some how, it seemed to.

Odd.

* * *

 _"Woof!"_

 _"Pafoo'!"_

 _"Sirius, mate, you're going to bring your mangy fleas in here and give my children a cold."_

 _"I'll have you know that I am perfectly clean, thank you very much, James."_

 _"I highly doubt that for some reason, Sirius."_

 _"Ah, Lily, you never fail to make me feel loved."_

 _"That's my wife you're talking about there..."_

* * *

"Have a holly, jolly Christmas," I sang under my breath, sighing as I dragged my feet through the thick snow.

Harry had finally started to open up again, it having been almost a month since he had started to shut down, so to speak.

And he and I were the only Gryffindor first years that had chosen to stay behind for the holidays.

But still, he and I didn't go everywhere together like we used to.

"There's lots of snow, that you can throw, so have a cup of cheer..." I frowned. My parody was making absolutely no sense.

Then again, I hadn't been making much sense recently.

The dream journal I had been keeping for Trelawney had previously been filled with a bunch of rubbish that I made up, but now I was plagued by memories almost every time I slept.

The same ones, and another, featuring a dog almost identical to the one I had sat down to talk to a week ago.

It was more filled out, and the eyes seemed to shine rather than frown, but the resemblance was there.

It had to be a coincidence, of course, but that hadn't stopped me from subconsciously looking for him whenever I took a walk outside.

"Say hello, to friends you know, and ev-" I stopped singing abruptly, and this time, for a good reason.

A large black dog was standing in front of me.

"It's you again," I muttered. "Well, here I am, singing Christmas carols that I don't actually like for any reason other than the fact that they have my name in them, talking to dogs, and standing out in the negative thirteen degree weather. I really do need to consider the fact that when Sir Cadogan changed the password to 'Non compos mentis,' he might have been trying to drop me a hint." I laughed weakly. "It's a real shame that the Fat Lady is still shaken by her encounter with Sirius Black, I don't even know the current password."

I laughed slightly, before frowning at the dog. "Aren't you cold? I'd be, even if I had fur..." I ran a finger along the dog's back. "No offence, but that's a really thin coat." I tilted my head to the side, my mind racing. "Let's see... there's no animals that aren't pets allowed inside the castle, and there's no pets that aren't toads, owls or cats allowed..." My hand idly went to my bag, when I suddenly remembered what I had inside it. "So, you up to being smuggled inside under a magical enchanted piece of clothing?"

* * *

Alright, I definitely needed to reconsider classifying myself as 'normal' - wait, when did I do that?

Okay, we're in the clear.

Normal witches – normal people in general, actually – do not smuggle random dogs into the castles that they attend school at under Invisibility Cloaks passed down to them by their fathers and take them into the kitchens.

Now, the dog was devouring food that the house elves had decided to feed him (I had asked him whether he was a boy when saying, 'Good boy,' and he had nodded, so I had decided that if he wasn't a boy, he'd have to deal with it, 'cause I wasn't checking for confirmation any time soon), as I watched, drinking a cup of tea.

Definitely not what normal people spend their December afternoons doing.

"I can hardly believe it's winter," I mumbled, looking through the window at the snowy grounds. "I would've thought it was ages ago. This... it's so snowy and depressing. Not quite as bad as losing my Nimbus 2000 like Harry did... but along those lines."

The dog I was talking to was too busy eating to respond, though if he had responded it would have been a bark that I wouldn't have been able to actually understand (as I don't speak dog language... or any language, really, I only know English and a few words from Latin and French).

"You eat like you've been starving," I commented. It looked up at me with as offended an expression as a dog could muster. "Not meant as an insult, merely an observation. Honestly, you seem to understand English so well I'm seriously starting to consider the fact that you're an Animagus." I laughed. "I'd check, but Harry has the map this week." At the look he gave me, I quickly added, "That's my brother. Harry... I'd tell you our surname, but you wouldn't believe me... even though you're a dog and probably can't understand a word I'm saying, anyway."

I shook my head at my own antics, leaning back against the wall and sighing. The dog nuzzled its head into the hand I had hanging at my side, and I scratched its head with a slight laugh.

"Sometimes I worry for my own sanity."

* * *

"Merry Christmas!" I exclaimed, leaping onto my brother's bed at the perfectly normal hour of five o'clock in the morning. He groaned, reaching a hand out to blindly search for his glasses, which I put onto his face with a wide grin.

"What time is it?" he asked groggily. I winked.

"Time for you to get up out of bed and open the awesome presents awaiting you!" I replied, bouncing energetically. "Well, that's five past five in my books, but either way, there's an interestingly shaped parcel that awaits you under the brilliant fir that is the Christmas tree in the common room! Come on, come on, come on!"

"Holly, you have the energy of a five year old and the attention span of a thirty year old," muttered Harry, begrudgingly swinging his legs out over the side of is bed. I raised an eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. He shrugged.

"That you are overly enthusiastic and yet manage to maintain focus," he replied. "Well, are we going to open the 'awesome presents awaiting us?'"

"That's what I'm talking about," I declared with a grin.

* * *

"Open the interestingly shaped parcel!" I ordered, muffled by the thick fabric of the sweater that Mrs Weasley had sent me for Christmas (a clever design, reversible, with an 'H' on one version and a 'W' on the other). Harry raised an eyebrow (or at least, I assumed he did, the sweater was still over my face), but I heard the tearing of the brown paper and an almost inaudible sharp intake of breath.

"What is it?" I asked, finally getting my head out of the sweater and gasping just as my brother had at what he had unwrapped.

"Either Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia really, _really_ want you to clean the house, or someone really, _really_ likes you," I muttered. "Who's it from?"

He searched the paper. "There's... no tag on it," he replied. "But, bloody hell."

I raised an eyebrow. "Who would have guessed – Firebolts make you sound like Ron!"

He rolled his eyes. "Just because I stole his catchphrase..." he muttered. "Who do you reckon it's from?"

I frowned before gasping. "What if it's jinxed?" I asked. "I mean, you have a history with jinxed brooms and people wanting to kill you..."

"You honestly think that Sirius Black would spend a ton of money on a Firebolt to try and kill me?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know, maybe!" I replied. "After all, the Blacks are a distinguished Pureblood family, it's not like he has any shortage of cash..."

"Holly-"

"Can we at least get it checked out?" I pleaded. "After all, it's not like it's Quidditch season... please, please, pretty please?"

He sighed. "I guess we could," he replied. I grinned, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you!" I exclaimed. "Let's go see Professor McGonagall... after we finish opening these, of course."

* * *

Harry and I sat in Professor Lupin's, both of us bummed out.

No, we weren't in trouble, before you suggest it.

"You're going to need happier memories," Professor Lupin was saying.

I sighed. "Got anything, Harry? 'Cause I really can't come up with that many happy memories."

He frowned. "I... think I might have one. It's not, well, a particularly _happy_ one, but... could I have another go, professor?"

"Sure thing, Harry," he replied, and I backed away as the trunk was opened and the Boggart Dementor emerged.

"Expecto Patronum!" exclaimed Harry. He frowned, having no result. " _Expecto Patronum_!"

There it was.

A giant, shimmery mist appeared from the tip of his wand, encasing the creature in a sort of shield that he was able to guide back down into the trunk, which closed shortly after. I squealed, hugging him.

"You did it!" I exclaimed. "How'd you do it? What was your memory? Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

"Give him a bit of air, Holly," advised Professor Lupin, and I sheepishly pulled away. Harry gratefully took the piece of chocolate he gave him.

"It was our parents," he said. I frowned. "I was remembering them... not really remembering, but thinking of them..."

"Fantastic job, Harry," congratulated Lupin. "Holly, would you like to give it a try?"

I bit my lip, my brow furrowing as I contemplated it. "I... no," I replied. "I- can I leave?"

Professor Lupin looked concerned but nodded, and I quickly picked up my things, thanking him before exiting the room.

* * *

"What happened?" asked Harry, catching up to me just under thirty seconds after I had left.

"I can't," I replied. "I can't get a happy memory from our parents. All of my memories – they all have _him_ in them. Sirius Black. They're... tainted."

A tear slipped down my cheek, and Harry pulled me into a hug as more escaped and I broke down in his arms.

"Shhh," he whispered. "It'll be alright."

"He was their friend," I got out between sobs. "A-a-and he betrayed them a-a-and now he's out of Azkaban and Dementors and dogs and..."

"You're making no sense at all," mumbled Harry in my ear.

"I know I'm not," I replied. "N-n-neither does anything... why would he g-g-give them up?"

"I don't know," he muttered. "I honestly don't know."

* * *

It was a cool winter day in the new year when I merrily skipped into the Great Hall, bearing a mysteriously shaped package that I had done an awful job of wrapping.

Of course, by this time, all of the students had returned from the Christmas holidays, and it being breakfast time, many were there to raise eyebrows and look confused.

"Harry!" I called out with a grin, skidding to a halt as I almost passed him. "Woah, didn't see you there. I was more so looking for Ron, y'know, 'cause he's easier to spot, what with his red hair and all, but he's not here... but you are. And greetings, Hermione!"

"Greetings," she replied hesitantly. "What's that you've got there?"

"This I've got here," I replied, "is a present he got for Christmas that was declared safe... open it, then, Harry, and let all of our teammates bask in the awesomeness."

The Quidditch team leaned in closer, evidently having predicted that it was a broomstick.

Harry groaned. "I know what it is already, H- Willow, you didn't have to make such a big deal out of it."

"But that, dear Harry, is where you're wrong," I replied with a grin. "Because it's... wait for it..."

"A _Firebolt_?"

"That's the fastest racing broom in the world, that is!"

"We have the Quidditch Cup in the _bag_."

"In... the bag?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow at Fred. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means we've good as won," replied George with a grin. "Who's it from, anyway?"

"That's just the thing," replied Harry. "We don't know."

"Bet it was someone who supported the lion pride," I said with a grin. "'Cause... you know... a group of lions is called a pride..."

Harry fake coughed into his elbow, mumbling, "Nerd."

* * *

I had been following Oliver Wood for the past half hour around the school, a fact that he was very much aware of as he turned to face me.

"Honestly, Leavitt?"

"Yep," I replied. "So, when's the next Quidditch match? And why haven't you told me yet?"

" _Because_ ," he replied exasperatedly, "only the captains are supposed to know."

"Your... point?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't tell anyone we play the twenty-fourth of April," he replied. I grinned.

"Thank you!" I exclaimed. I suddenly frowned. "The... twenty-fourth, you said?"

"Yes," he replied. "Now, will you stop stalking me?"

"Sure thing, Wood," I mumbled.

April 24th... why was that date so significant?

It hit me like a ton of bricks.

The day before that – April 23rd – was Buckbeak's execution date.

* * *

"Thank you, Harry," I said with a grin, taking the piece of parchment he handed me.

Not just any ordinary piece of parchment, mind you, it was the Marauder's Map, after all.

We had met up in one of the secret passageways that the map had shown us, one that only Filch and the Weasley twins knew of. (And Mrs Norris – Filch's cat).

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," I mumbled, pressing the tip of my lit wand to the paper and grinning as the familiar words appeared and unfolding the map, watching Harry's footsteps walk away and frowning as another person passed him in the corridor.

Peter... Pettigrew?

Where did I know that name from?

I frowned, looking around the corner. There was nobody there.

Nobody but a rat – Ron's rat, if I recognized him well enough.

And Snape approaching.

"Shoot," I mumbled. "Mischief managed. Nox."

Harry and I had decided to meet up just minutes before curfew, so he could have as much time with the map as possible and still not get caught out after hours.

It was after hours now.

My bag was on the ground on the other side of the corridor, in it the Invisibility Cloak.

All I could do was press myself against the wall and hope for the best.

"Miss Leavitt?"

Of course.

 _Of course_.

Snape obviously _had_ to know about the secret passageway.

I sheepishly grinned at him. "Evening, professor... fancy seeing you here."

"I could say the same to you," he replied coldly. "Out of bed, after hours... turn out your pockets."

"Turn out my pockets, professor?" I repeated, nervously clutching the map I had shoved into my hoodie pocket. "Why would I need to do that?"

"I would advise you to do so," he replied. I sighed, pulling out the piece of parchment. "What's that?"

"A piece of parchment, sir," I replied, looking down at it and biting my lip to keep from laughing out loud at the words that appeared on it.

"And what does it say?" he drawled. I looked at him over the rims of my glasses.

" _Mr Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business_ ," I read smoothly. His face settled into a definitive frown. " _Mr Prongs agrees with Mr Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git_."

"Leavitt..." he said warningly.

" _Mr Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor_ -"

"Give me that," he said, seizing it and reading off the insults.

" _Mr Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball_ ," I finished without even looking. "Now, if you'll excuse me, professor, I must be on my way, you see..."

"Hello?"

"Good evening, Professor Lupin," I said cheerfully. "Professor Snape was just letting me know of my punishment so I could be on my way now..."

"What's this?" he asked, coming up beside Professor Snape and reading off the parchment.

"That is exactly what I wanted to know," he replied. Lupin took the map with a frown.

"It appears to simply be a piece of parchment enchanted to insult anyone who reads it," he mumbled. "I can take care of this, Severus. Miss Leavitt... follow me."

I gulped.

Somehow, although Snape was the more intimidating professor, I feared that Professor Lupin's punishment would somehow be even worse.

* * *

"I haven't the faintest idea of how this map here came to be in your possession, but to be quite frank with you, the fact that you never handed it in astounds me."

I sighed, looking at my shoes as Professor Lupin berated me.

"Did the idea that this is a map straight to you in the hands of Sirius Black never occur to you?"

I frowned. "No, sir..." I replied. He sighed.

"Your father wasn't one for playing by the rules, either. But your mother and him gave their lives to save yours." I winced, even though the true emotional tug hadn't come yet.

"Dishonoring their sacrifice by wandering around the castle at night unprotected with a killer on the loose seems like an awfully poor way to repay them!"

There it was. He had hit the nail right on the head. I blinked hard, feeling tears start to sting my eyes.

"Now, I will not cover for you again, do you hear me?" I sighed.

"Yes, sir."

"Now, return to Gryffindor tower and stay there." I turned to leave, but remembered something, stopping and turning around in the doorway.

"Professor," I said. He looked up.

"Yes, Holly?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Just so you know... I don't think that map always works." He frowned. "I'm assuming you know how to operate it, but earlier... it showed someone that couldn't possibly be in the castle."

"Really? And who might that be?"

I sighed. "Peter Pettigrew. Good night, professor."

And I left without another word.


	8. Of Prophecies and Potions

Diary of a Discovered Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter VIII : Of_ _Prophecies and Potions_

Time was slowly running out for Buckbeak. It was nearing the end of March already, and while I had spent hours in the library poring over books, occasionally assisted by either Harry or Hermione, there was really no hope for the hippogriff.

While Buckbeak's life was on the line, Hagrid's classes had ceased to be interesting and entertaining as he played it on the safe side.

I was currently feeding a flobberworm – an ugly, slimy creature that spat and crawled as its name suggested ('flob' meaning 'spit' and 'worm' meaning 'gross creature with a slender, elongated body') – as had been our task for the last month.

Care of Magical Creatures had originally been a topic I was looking forward to, but now flobberworm caring was one of my least favorite tasks.

"I wonder what eats you, little flobberworm," I mused aloud as I fed it lettuce (flobberworms were herbivores, and rather picky about what they ate, and so lettuce was among the few vegetables I could give to my pet). "Shame I don't know how to care for magical creatures larger than ten inch long worms... not that I'd want you to get eaten, of course. Just this lettuce... totally not bitter about feeding something akin to a blob."

"Sure you're not," said Harry with a laugh, sitting down next to me. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"You're approaching me of your own accord and smiling," I observed with a grin. "Feeling better... slightly less concerned about Sirius Black leaping out from behind corners to ambush you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I never was concerned about that... though I was definitely concerned for your mental well being, and for good reason."

"You wound me," I teased with a smile. "My mental well being... worry about that as much as you like, won't do any good." I frowned. "What's the date again?"

"The first of April," he answered. I gasped.

"I thought it was March!" I exclaimed. "Hear that, little flobberworm? It's the first of April... ah, right, _that_ explains why today is the twins' birthday. Here I was, thinking they were born in March and had lied about their birthday being April Fools' Day... when did the month change, again?"

"Today," replied Harry, rolling his eyes. I sighed.

"I really do need to start marking off my calendar better," I thought aloud. "You have a free period next, don't you?"

"Yep," replied Harry. "What have you got?"

"Ancient Runes and Arithmancy," I replied with a sigh. He frowned.

"Both at the same time? How is that even possible?" he asked. I winked.

" _Magic_ ," I replied simply.

* * *

"Heya, Buckbeak," I said with a sad smile, petting the hippogriff. "Where's Hagrid?"

He shook his head in the negative, as if to reply, "I don't know."

I frowned, looking to the boarhound sitting loyally by the professor's door. "So, Fang's here as if he's on guard, you have no clue where Hagrid is... I should probably get going, then. Wouldn't want a random person to come out here and find me outside of the castle during class time... 'specially after having such a terrible headache that I couldn't attend my classes for the third period, which sucked, because I had Charms, which is my third favorite subject; Divination, which is always interesting even if it's filled with death omens; and Arithmancy... which isn't so bad, because if I had attended that I would have gotten a headache anyway..."

"Are you really talking to a hippogriff?" asked Hermione, quirking an eyebrow as she approached.

"Are you really outside of the school during class time?" I asked her. "Hermione Granger, skipping class? Which round are you on now?"

"Second," she replied. "I walked out on Divination."

"Did you really?" My eyes widened. "Man, the one time I miss class, and it has to be the one class I didn't want to miss..."

"How's your headache?" I sighed.

"It hurts," I replied. "Like... I don't know... my head's being hammered. I saw Madam Pomfrey about it, and she gave me a potion and sent me on my way... that worked out well." I sighed.

"Are you going to be able to attend classes this afternoon?" Hermione looked at me concernedly. I nodded.

"I guess I will," I replied. "I mean, it's not like I can afford to miss out on anything more... what's the homework for Charms class?"

"Read chapter seven of our textbook and write an eight inch essay," replied Hermione. "Due by next class... so we have the weekend to work on it."

"The weekend... is this one going to be another Hogsmeade weekend?" Harry and I had only gone on a couple of Hogsmeade trips, but now Dementors were roaming the village regularly and while Harry could cast a Patronus, I still hadn't mastered the charm and couldn't bear the coldness that chilled me every time I passed one.

Hermione nodded. "Ron, Harry and I were planning on going... you're welcome to join us, if you think you're up to it." I shook my head.

"No," I replied. "I don't think I can – ooh, look, a Grim!"

Hermione looked bewildered as I petted the dog that came bounding up to the two of us. "You know him?"

He woofed at her merrily, and I laughed, nodding.

"We've met," I replied. "Haven't seen him since before Christmas, though... did you find a warmer place to stay, doggy?"

He nodded. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"You talk to him and he understands?" she asked. "That's pretty impressive."

"I'm pretty sure it's just a coincidence," I replied with a shrug. "After all, last I checked, Animagi had better things to do than follow random schoolchildren around... now, don't look at me like that, I'm not saying anything about you, unless you're an Animagus."

"Do you reckon his owner lives down in Hogsmeade? Maybe we should take him back?" I shook my head.

"If his owner lived down in Hogsmeade, he wouldn't have come up here so often," I replied. "So... well, do you have to get to Arithmancy?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, I do," she replied with a smile. "Are you coming with?"

I sighed, looking to the dog. "Sorry, boy, but I've got to get a worse headache than I have already."

Hermione laughed. "Arithmancy isn't _that_ bad, is it?"

The dog and I furiously nodded, and Hermione and I laughed at its antics, pulling identical Time Turners out from under our shirts and going back an hour in time before running up to the castle to get to Arithmancy.

* * *

"Miss Leavitt, please stay after class." I frowned, packing up my books and checking my schedule.

"Professor Lupin, I really must get to my next class," I replied. "Can it wait?"

"I'm afraid not," he replied. My brow creased further as the other students filed out, leaving him and I alone.

"What is it, professor?" I asked, racking my brain for what I could possibly be in trouble for.

"First of all, are you feeling quite alright today?" I shook my head.

"Awful headache, but I've already seen Madam Pomfrey about it," I replied. "Why?"

"That was just pure concern," he replied. I smiled slightly. "My second question is a much more serious one... where were you at the start of third period?"

"I was... out on the grounds," I replied.

"And who were you talking to?"

"Hermione..." I replied hesitantly. "She... well... um... walked out on one of her classes, and I had been told not to attend any of my classes for the morning when I got the potion for my headache..."

"Nobody else?" I shook my head. "You're absolutely certain?"

"Well, there was Buckbeak the hippogriff," I replied with a laugh, "and a dog."

"A black, large dog?" he asked, his eyes wide. I frowned, slowly nodding. "Don't go near him again."

"W-why not?" I asked, absolutely bewildered. "Is he dangerous? He didn't look that bad to me-"

"He's a very dangerous dog," replied Professor Lupin, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just... please, don't go around approaching him again?"

"Yes, sir," I replied. "Is that all?" He nodded. "Alright, I'd better be getting to my next class..."

"I'll write you a note," he replied, taking out a quill and ink, before suddenly frowning. "Isn't it lunch time next?"

"Yes," I replied, "but I have Professor Vector, and you, at the same time." He raised an eyebrow, and I slipped out my Time Turner with a wink. "Time Turner."

He raised an eyebrow as he started to write. "Are you sure your headache isn't in any way attributed to being overworked?" he asked, handing me the note he had written.

"Perhaps," I replied, taking it. "But last I checked, stress-related headaches were curable."

"Yours isn't?" he asked. I shook my head.

"It's been bothering me all day, sir," I replied. "Good day, professor."

* * *

"Class dismissed," said Professor Snape after a gruelling Potions class. "Miss Leavitt, please stay back."

I groaned. _Another professor wanting to talk to me... I'm starting to think I should stay out of trouble, even though I haven't been in any_.

Harry gave me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as he passed by on his way out, and I sighed, approaching Snape's desk and standing by as he disappeared into his stores, coming back with three bottles.

"Professor Lupin has informed me of your headache," he said, and I raised an eyebrow. "He has also asked me if I had any treatment for it – which potion did you take earlier today?"

"A simple headache reliever, sir," I replied. "The one that can be found on page 134 of our textbooks."

"And this did not help?" he asked.

"No, sir," I replied. He held out one of the bottles, and I took it hesitantly.

"Take this after dinner," he instructed, "and meet me in my office at eight o'clock if it doesn't work. You are dismissed, Miss Leavitt."

"Thank you, professor," I said, but he had already turned away. I sighed, hurrying out of the classroom with my things and to my next class.

* * *

"So, what'd Snape want?" asked Harry as we walked down to dinner, just like old times. I shrugged.

"Apparently, Professor Lupin told him about my headaches, and so he gave me a potion," I replied. "I'm not supposed to take it until after dinner, and if it doesn't work, I'm to meet him at eight o'clock."

"Eight o'clock?" repeated Harry. "Isn't curfew at eight thirty?"

"Yes, it is, fantastic observation," I replied. "That's why I'm taking the cloak."

He groaned. "I think that's officially yours now," he declared. I laughed.

"Yep," I replied. "You know, you really should find a better hiding place for it if you don't want me to keep taking it... like, say, anywhere but your sock drawer."

He looked rather affronted as we entered the Great Hall. "You were in my sock drawer?"

"Don't look so shocked," I replied with a wink. "It's not like I read your diary."

He flushed red. "I don't have a diary!" I grinned.

"Sure you don't," I replied. "Suuuuuure you don't."

* * *

"Blech, this stuff is nasty," I declared as I struggled to swallow the potion after dinner. " _Finally_ done."

"Reckon he's trying to poison you?" asked Harry amusedly. I shook my head.

"No, no, no, Harry, have you learned nothing? Medicine always tastes awful – I'm not the one who drank Skele-Gro, so you should know that better than I. And poison always either is tasteless or tastes good. It's common sense, silly."

"So your tongue has to be punished for trying to heal your body and rewarded for trying to harm it?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow. I nodded with a laugh.

"Basically," I replied. "Well, this is doing absolutely nothing... shame." I tucked the empty vial back into my bag with a sigh, leaning my head on Harry's shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I've had a headache all day, nightmares all week, strange dreams all year... so, mentally or physically?" I asked with a teasing smile.

"I mean this in the most non-teasing of ways, but are you sure there's nothing wrong with your mind?" I frowned.

"Never quite certain," I replied, "but I haven't really done any research into the matter. I've no clue what to look up – recurring memories... headaches... and I can't imagine actually asking anyone about it aside from Dumbledore or Professor Lupin, as they're really the only ones I can confide in."

"That headache potion still not kicking in?" I shook my head.

"No, not really," I replied. "Well, anyway, I'll see you later, then..."

* * *

"This hasn't worked?" asked Professor Snape, examining the bottle.

"No, sir," I replied.

"And you drank all of it after dinner?"

"Yes, sir," I answered. He frowned.

"How long have you had this headache for?" he questioned.

"Since I woke up at about six o'clock this morning, sir," I replied.

"And it hasn't wavered since?" I shook my head.

"No, sir."

"Take this," he instructed, holding out a small vial. I frowned, taking it.

"What is it, sir?" I asked.

"Dreamless sleep potion," he answered. I raised an eyebrow. "You've been having nightmares, haven't you?"

"Yes, sir..." I replied hesitantly.

"You are dismissed, Miss Leavitt."

I left the office with the potion and a frown, my head spinning and generally making it ache even more.

That. Was. Weird.

* * *

"And then he- are you alright?" Hermione looked at me concernedly. I smiled, barely concealing a wince.

"Yeah," I replied. "Just... fine."

But Hermione wasn't stupid, and I was holding my head as I walked. "You're not alright," she replied with a frown. "Are you getting the headaches again? I can take you to the infirmary-"

I held up a hand, silencing her. "No, Hermione, honestly." I sighed. "Her headache potions won't do me any good. Dreamless sleep potions subdue the dreams, but I still get the headaches."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're saying your headaches aren't linked to your dreams?"

I shrugged. "I've been having these strange dreams all year, and they usually left me with a dull throbbing in my head that would subside after a few hours. But ever since they've been getting worse, so have the headaches." I laughed weakly, "I think I'm going mad, or this is all one big, strange coincidence..."

"Hold on a second. You mean that you've been having strange dreams all year, and they leave you with headaches, and you never told anyone?" I bit my lip under Hermione's gaze.

"Yes..." I replied. "I could handle it before, I could ignore it, but it eventually got so awful that I had to leave classes..."

"Willow!" Hermione smacked me softly enough not to worsen my headache but hard enough to prove her point. "Never, _ever_ be so darned independent!"

I sighed, looking out the window. "What's the date?" I asked.

"Friday the 22nd," she replied, "why?"

I gasped. "Has time really flown by that fast?" I asked. "It's... Buckbeak's execution date."

She stared, eyes wide. "It _is_?" I nodded. "Oh, no... well, I'll see you in Arithmancy and Charms, then."

"Yep," I replied, "see you then. I'm going to get up to Divination before Professor Trelawney tries to kill me for being late."

* * *

"It's so... round..." I mumbled, examining the crystal ball. "Alright, what are we supposed to be doing with these orbs of orbiness again?"

"Orbs of orbiness?" repeated Harry, raising an eyebrow. "They're crystal balls, not orbs of orbiness."

"Right," I replied. "And I'm totally a person, and not a human of humanity... I see how it is..."

"We're supposed to complete the exercise on page 46 of _Unfogging the Future_ with partners," explained Harry. I raised an eyebrow, examining the opened page.

"Alright, I guess I'll do this first," I declared. "Look deep into your partner's eyes, not with your own, but with your Inner Eye... man, people who like their partners must really enjoy this. Okay, after you have focused your Inner Eye, look into the crystal ball, and search... oh, bother, this is codswallop."

"Let's get it over with, then," replied Harry with a laugh. I sighed, turning my seat so I could face him, closing my eyes tight, and then opening them, staring unblinkingly into my brother's identical ones for a minute before looking to the crystal ball.

" _Tonight..._ " I heard a voice whisper. I gasp, wanting to look around to see who said it but for some reason compelled not to look away. " _Dark Lord... alone... friendless..._ "

I can barely scream as I am violently thrown back in my chair, and my vision turns to darkness.

* * *

I open my eyes, and everyone in the room is staring at me.

I blink twice, trying to recollect what just happened, but all of my recent memory is blurred and mashed together.

All I remember is looking into the crystal ball.

"Well, that was a fail," I mumbled under my breath. "Your turn, Harry... why are you all staring at me?"

"You – you-"

"My dear, you have it!" exclaimed Professor Trelawney. I stared at her, bewildered.

"I have... what, exactly?" I asked.

" _The Inner Eye_!" she replied.

Well, if everyone wasn't staring at me before, they definitely were now.

"I – I don't understand," I mumbled, looking around. "What just happened? All I did was look into the crystal ball."

"That's just it," replied Professor Trelawney, "Seers don't remember giving prophecies. You just gave a prophecy, my child... you've been having the dreams, haven't you?"

"Dreams?" I repeated. "What type of dreams?"

"Dreams of the _past_ ," she replied. "Of the traitor – the traitor you mentioned in your prophecy!"

Harry slid over a piece of parchment, on which he had something written in a barely legible rushed handwriting. I gasped violently, my eyes skimming over it.

"I have," I replied breathlessly. "The dreams – and the headaches-"

"Class dismissed!" exclaimed Trelawney. "Stay with me, my dear... we have much to discuss."

* * *

"So what you've been saying is that the dreams I've been having all year of the traitor, and the nightmares I've been having recently, are linked to my headaches because my Inner Eye has been trying to open but I've kept it shut, and that I'm a Seer?"

This was weird. After all, it's not like I'm exactly used to being told I'm a Seer.

Or that the traitor I've been having dreams about all year – Sirius Black – is going to be free and set out to rejoin his master tonight.

"Yes, that is exactly what I am saying, my dear," replied Professor Trelawney. I sighed.

"Can I leave now, professor?" I asked. She nodded idly, handing me a note in her spidery handwriting.

"Keep your eyes open," she called out to me as I left. "All three of them."

I quickly pulled out my Time Turner as soon as the door was closed behind me, and turned it, rushing through the hallways to Arithmancy.

"Why are you late?" mumbled Hermione as I sat down next to her, having handed Professor Vector the note.

"I'll explain later," I replied. "At lunch, when all four of us will be there... Page 42?"

"I'm a Seer," I explained quickly, my voice hushed so none of the other students would hear us. "That's why I've been having these dreams all year, that's why I've been having headaches – that's my Inner Eye, apparently, and no potion can subdue it – and that's why I made a prophecy today."

Hermione gasped. "You – you _did_? How did it go, what did it say?"

"Harry would know better, he has it written down," I replied. "Harry?"

"She and I were doing the crystal ball exercise," he started, "and she was trying to tell my future – so we followed the instructions, and she looked into the crystal ball – or, as she prefers to call it, the orb of orbiness – and she looked at it for a moment before gasping. A couple of seconds later, she screamed and was thrown back in her chair as if something had pushed her..."

"It was bloody scary," added Ron, jumping in. "Her head was over the back of chair one minute, and then it suddenly rolled forward and it was if she was alert, except her eyes were bright silver and her voice was – I don't even know how to describe it-"

"Unnaturally deep and loud," supplied Harry. "Like... if someone with a deep voice used a Sonorus charm. Anyway, she said this." He passed Hermione the piece of parchment he had written on, and her eyes flicked across it, her eyes widening.

"Do you reckon this refers to Sirius Black?" she asked breathlessly. "I mean – for twelve years he has been chained – that can only mean that he's been locked up, in Azkaban!"

"So it's settled then," I mumbled, eyes darting around frantically. "Buckbeak's getting executed at nine thirty, Sirius Black is coming back and he's going try to reunite with Voldemort before midnight..."

"Starting to have second thoughts about visiting Hagrid," mumbled Harry. I smacked him.

"No, we are _definitely_ visiting Hagrid," I replied. "I'm just starting to think that this year's strange events are starting to fall into place all at once."

"So, your point?" asked Hermione.

"They're all linked," I replied. "Somehow – I have no clue how – but it can't all just be _coincidence_ , can it? Sirius Black, Buckbeak, you know what the common denominator is? Harry. It all ties in somehow – I mean, there's no way it can't be."

"How do you know?" whispered Harry.

"I know," I replied, "because Sirius Black has been out of Azkaban for almost nine months. If he could have reunited with Voldemort by now, don't you think he would have?"

"There's something else, too," said Ron. "It's – it's not necessarily related... but Scabbers is missing."

I frowned. "Your rat, right?" He nodded. "Your rat's missing... has he ever gone missing before?"

Harry snorted. "That rat sleeps so often it's a wonder he's even gotten out of the dormitory," he replied. Ron, to my surprise, didn't take any offence, instead nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, that's why it's so strange," he mumbled. "He's been missing since Wednesday – I didn't mention it, 'cause I thought he'd turn up, but..."

"It's linked," I murmured. "Somehow..."

* * *

"Greetings, Hagrid!" I called out, knocking on the door. "We come bearing brownies... because brownies are yummy."

He opened the door with a frown. "Yeh shouldn' be here, wha' with Sirius Black an' everythin'..." It's my turn to frown. He has tear tracks running down his bearded face, and Buckbeak is chained to a post in the pumpkin patch.

"Yes, we _should_ be here," I replied firmly. "We're being super safe, and there is no way we can eat all of these brownies by ourselves."

"I suppose yeh could come in... but make sure yeh're quick," says Hagrid, and we enter, setting the plate of house elf made brownies on the table.

"It's confusing, this whole thing," I mumbled. "Buckbeak and Sirius Black and prophecies..."

"Prophecies?" repeated Hagrid. "Professor Trelawney 'ad another one of 'er prophecies?"

"No," replied Hermione. "There was a prophecy, but it wasn't Professor Trelawney that gave it – it was Willow."

I sighed as Hagrid gasped. "Yeh're a Seer? Tha's brilliant!" he exclaimed. "A half blood Seer, tha's rare... and yeh said yer mother was a Muggleborn?"

"Yes," I replied, my eyes darting around the room.

Well, it wasn't a _lie_ , per se... and I technically was a half blood Seer.

"And... wha' was the prophecy abou'?" I frowned, suddenly hearing scuffling.

"What's that, Hagrid? Are you raising another baby dragon?" He shook his head, bewildered, and I looked quickly around before spotting the source of the scuffling.

"Ron," I whispered so nobody else could hear. "What does your rat look like?"

"He's dark grey, rather chubby, and he's missing a toe on his left front paw," replied Ron. "Why?"

I didn't reply, putting a finger to my lips and suddenly lunging, closing my hands around the rodent on the ground before lifting him up, holding him out to Ron by the tail. He gasped.

"Scabbers!" he exclaimed. "How'd he get out here?"

"No clue," I replied. Harry yelped suddenly.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head. I frowned. "I – a rock just flew in the window and hit me!"

"Yeah, sure," I replied, looking outside. I gasped. "The – the executioners are coming!"

"Yeh've got ter get goin', yeh four," said Hagrid quickly. "Quick – out the back way, tha's the fastest... don't let them see yeh."

"Come on!" I hissed, grabbing my wand off of the table and, in my hurry, Harry's. We moved as quickly as we could, and were across the grounds by the time the executioner party had arrived.

I winced, hearing the telltale crack of metal on wood.

"It's over..." I mumbled. "On the bright side, I guess, we've got your rat, Ron." Confused at hearing no response, I looked up to see what the other three were staring at and paled.

The dog I had been told to stay away from – a large, black one – stood before us, growling and snapping. I jumped back.

"G-good doggy..." I stammered. Harry and Hermione stared.

"You know him?" asked Harry. I nodded.

"I-I did..." I replied nervously, backing away. The dog crept closer, baring sharp teeth. "But he's never been this aggressive before- HOLY SHIT!"

Scabbers had bitten my hand, taking the distraction to run away. The dog ran after him, and Ron after the dog. I raised an eyebrow.

"He really does like that rat, doesn't he?"

The rat and dog raced towards the Whomping Willow, but Ron finally outran the dog, closing his hands around Scabbers. I gasped, watching in silent horror as the dog grabbed Ron's leg in its mouth, dragging the boy into the Whomping Willow tree-

 _The Whomping Willow tree_?

"Of all the trees he had to choose," I mumbled. "It had to be the one that I have no clue how to get into."

"We've got to get Ron!" exclaimed Harry.

" _How_?" replied Hermione frantically. "That tree could kill us, Harry! It's a Whomping Willow, not an elm!"

He squared his jaw, facing the tree head-on.

"We've got to try."


	9. Of Willows and Wolves

Diary of a Discovered Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter IX : Of Willows and Wolves_

"AH!" I screamed, rolling to the side as the tree thrashed at me. " _This is not working_!"

I frowned as Hermione seemed to fly by – _fly by_?

Sweet Merlin, she was actually holding on to the tree branch. "Grab on!" she exclaimed as she passed Harry, holding down a hand. He seized it, and she pulled him onto the branch as it swung by and threw them into the tree.

I was alone out here now, flat against the ground about halfway towards the trunk of a tree that was trying to kill me.

I cast a glance at the trunk, and back out at the open grounds, and made my choice.

"I'm an idiot," I mumbled, rolling and tucking my body as close as possible as I steadily progressed, wincing as the thick branches cut my exposed skin and only grew more violent.

"Willow?!" I could hear Hermione's frantic voice from within the tree.

"I'm alright!" I called back, letting out a scream as a branch narrowly grazed my right shoulder.

Alright? I was bleeding in several places, and would bruise in others – but I was almost there!

I heard shouting from deeper within the tree, though I couldn't make out the words. Panicking, I let my guard slip and a branch whipped my back as I managed to slip myself through into the opening at the bottom of the tree.

"Harry? Hermione?" I called out, following the barely distinguishable voices.

"Don't come any further!" shouted Harry. I frowned, stopping outside the door from which the voices were coming from, pressing my ear against it to try and make out the conversation.

"You betrayed them!" Harry. That was Harry – who was he talking to?

"No, it wasn't me... I can explain!" I recognized that voice – who was it?

 _A traitor... chained for twelve years..._

"Who's there?!" I heard a voice ask from further up the tunnel – the way we had came. I felt my shoulders sag with relief.

"Professor Lupin, we're down here!" I called. He approached, turning the corner with his wand out.

"Where are the others?" he demanded. I gulped.

"In there," I replied, pointing to the door. "But there's someone else-"

"PROFESSOR! HELP! SIRIUS BLACK!" screamed Hermione.

He crossed the hall, throwing the door open. I gasped, getting my first glimpse of the man imprisoned for twelve years – he looked truly deranged, his cheeks bony and eyes sunken.

"Remus!" he exclaimed.

"It was you," snarled Lupin. "You betrayed them, you went after Pettigrew- unless- you switched without-"

The two stared at each other before suddenly embracing. I gasped.

"You- you've been helping him?" I asked, eyes wide as they looked between the two. "I – I _trusted_ you."

"Holly, I can explain-"

" _Holly_?" repeated Hermione. I breathed a deep sigh, Professor Lupin pinched the bridge of his nose, and Black stared at me.

"Hermione, we've got more important things to focus on right now," I replied calmly as I could manage while standing in the same room as a man who had been responsible for my parents' deaths.

"He's an Animagus!" Ron exclaimed. I frowned, whipping around to see him sprawled on a four poster bed in the room, his leg bent at a painful looking angle.

"H-he..." I stammered, my eyes darting around the room. "No, I... you were the dog..."

"Holly, I can explain-"

I whipped my wand out, advancing with a glare. " _Talk fast_."

"James and Lily were using the Fidelius charm-" he started.

"The Fidelius charm – you were their Secret Keeper, weren't you?"

"Yes, I was – at first, then I was worried-"

"Worried about _what_?" I snarled.

"About the fact that it would be obvious, so I suggested we swap to someone else – someone less obvious-"

"Peter Pettigrew," supplied Professor Lupin.

"Peter Pettigrew?" I repeated. "But isn't he-"

"Dead? That's what I thought," he replied, "but he isn't – in fact, he is in this very room."

"In this very-" I gasped. "It wasn't just you – the rat – Scabbers-"

I could manage nothing but broken English as my mind sped, all of the pieces of the puzzle clicking together.

"He's missing a finger, your rat, Ron, isn't he?" said Black.. Ron frowned.

"Yeah, he is – but how did you know that?"

"Because all they found of Peter Pettigrew was a finger," replied Harry breathlessly. "I don't believe it – it's been him all along."

"Let's kill him!" exclaimed Black. I whipped around, staring at him with wide eyes.

"No way," replied Ron. "I'm – I'm not letting you kill Scabbers! He's – you must be mixed up-"

"Then let's prove it," responded Professor Lupin. "This won't hurt him if he really is a rat, Ron, I promise."

Ron whimpered as he handed over the rat, who was wriggling and struggling to escape.

Both Black and Professor Lupin pointed their wands at him, and blue and white lights enclosed around Scabbers, spinning him around and around as he gradually grew. I closed my eyes, unable to watch the gross transformation as he was changed from a rodent to a person.

A person by the name of Peter Pettigrew.

"R-Remus... Sirius... my old friends!" he exclaimed, throwing himself at their feet. "So g-good to see you again!"

I watched the man with disdain – he even looked rat-like in human form, with receding blond hair and watery blue eyes.

"How _dare_ you call us friends?" spat Black. "After what you did to James and Lily?"  
"J-James and Lily... you don't understand! He was going to kill me! What would you have done?"

"I would have _died_!" he cried. " _Died_ , rather than betrayed my friends – did you even think to give your life to spare theirs? Or consider Harry and Holly?"

I leaned back against the wall as a headache came on, the throbbing pain brought on by my thoughts.

 _A traitor... chained for twelve years_...

It wasn't literal chains that were holding Pettigrew back from rejoining his master.

He had been chained by himself.

He had been in all of those memories – always on the sidelines, on the outside looking in.

How had I not even noticed that he was the only constant factor? Sirius hadn't appeared in all of those dreams.

"I should kill you-"

"Don't," I said – barely a whisper, but everyone turned to stare at me. "Don't – my parents wouldn't have wanted you to become a murderer, would they? Can't it wait?" I took a shuddering breath. "If we want to prove that he's alive, he'll need to _be_ alive."

"Sirius, listen to her, she has a point," added Professor Lupin. "We should take him up to the castle."

"Oh, thank you!" exclaimed Pettigrew. I raised an eyebrow, bewildered. "You're so much like your mother – she was so kind-"

"Stop," I snapped. "I didn't do this for _you_. I did this so an innocent man wouldn't be imprisoned for twelve more years... Harry?"

"Yeah?" he replied, looking up.

"I think my Inner Eye needs glasses."

He laughed weakly. "I think Hermione deserves an explanation."

I sighed. "Let's get out of here first – how are we getting him out, anyway?" I looked to Professor Lupin and Black, the former of which pulled out his wand.

"Let's chain him to us," he advised, and Black nodded, the two of them standing on either side of the traitor before conjured chains from his wand trapped him between them.

"Ron, can you walk?" I asked concernedly. He shook his head, and I beckoned Harry over to help me get him up.

"Are you sure you can hold him up?" he asked concernedly, taking in my appearance with a frown. I bit my lip, feeling the pain of the cuts and bruises now that the adrenaline had run dry. "Hermione, help me get him up?"

The two worked together to quickly lift Ron from the bed, supporting his weight in between them. I smiled weakly, taking in the seven of us – Pettigrew, Black, Professor Lupin, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and I.

"Well, we certainly make an odd group, don't we?"

* * *

"What is he doing?" I mumbled, seeing Pettigrew start to shrink. "Professor Lupin!"

"I – damn it!" he cursed, as Pettigrew morphed into rat form. "He must have taken a wand-"

Sirius gave chase, but our small spectacle had attracted an audience.

Namely, the Dementors.

"No..." I mumbled as the cloaked figures chased the two into the forest. "Harry… I can't run that fast..."

He nodded, and we swapped places, Ron's arm slung over my shoulder as he raced after Sirius and Pettigrew, Professor Lupin not far behind.

"We've got to get you up to the Hospital Wing, Ron," I mumbled. He started to protest, but I wouldn't hear any of it. "They'll… they'll be alright."

I could only hope.

* * *

"Ow," I hissed, gritting my teeth as Madam Pomfrey continued to wrap me in so many bandages I could pass for an Egyptian mummy. "I'm… done, right?"

She clucked her tongue. "For now," she replied. "Don't you dare move from that hospital bed."

I gulped, looking around the room. "D-do you think they're alright out there, 'Mione?"

"I don't know," she replied worriedly. "You know… we could check."

"Check?" I repeated. "Didn't Madam Pomfrey say not to move?"

"Well..." she replied, her hand fingering the gold chain around her neck. I gasped.

"You're suggesting… that..."

"Think about it!" she exclaimed. "Buckbeak – we could save him – Pettigrew – we could catch him-"

"I'm not protesting," I replied. "I'm in shock – who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?"

"I'm Hermione, and I've given myself a reason to use my ability to change the past," she replied determinedly. "You can walk, can't you?"

"Yes," I replied. "It's about… say… midnight now, and Buckbeak's execution was at nine thirty..."

"Three turns should do it," she replied, slipping the Time Turner around our necks.

"One..."

"Two..."

"Three!"

* * *

"Where were we at nine o'clock?" I whispered.

"We were going outside," she replied, and we quickly raced through the castle, ensuring nobody would see us.

"And – there we are," I mumbled. "We just went out the wrong door, didn't we?"

"Yes, we did," agreed Hermione, shaking her head. "Is – is that Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle?"

I frowned, looking in the direction she was pointing before nodding. "He's – damn, he's turning around."

"Ah, hello!" exclaimed Malfoy. "Come to watch the show?"

Of _course_. Of course he would be happy about this. I looked to Hermione, expecting her to ignore him and walk away, but instead, she whipped out her wand and advanced on him.

"You!" she exclaimed. "You foul, onion-eyed maggot pie!"

I raised an eyebrow at her choice of insult as she held her wand to his throat, him whimpering pathetically.

"Don't, Hermione!" I called. "He's not worth it!"  
She scowled, but lowered her wand. Malfoy and his cronies sniggered, before she whipped around, her fist meeting his face with a loud crack. I gasped, holding a hand over my mouth in silent amazement as the three Slytherins raced back up towards the castle.

"Woah!" I exclaimed. "That was like – the most _badass_ thing I've ever seen – it was just all of this pent up aggression and, like, rawr!"

She grinned. " _That_ felt good."

"You totally blew our cover, though," I added. "After all, I have no clue where we are now – probably to Hagrid's hut."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, what are we waiting for? Come on, then!"

We raced across the grounds, hiding behind the large pumpkins in Hagrid's garden for cover as we made our way over to Buckbeak.

"Poor thing," I mused, bowing low to the hippogriff. He bowed back. "Alright, let's – can we get you out of here?"

"No, we can't," replied Hermione. "If we do, they'll think it was Hagrid – we have to make sure the execution party sees him!"

I frowned as Dumbledore; the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge; and the black-clad executioner carrying a large ax approached. "We're still in there, aren't we?" I looked through the window, seeing my past self pick up Pettigrew – or Scabbers, rather. "Why did we leave again?"

Hermione frowned, picking up a stone. "We left 'cause Harry had a rock thrown at his head."

"Can I?" I asked hopefully. "You got to punch Malfoy."

She rolled her eyes, handing me the stone, which I chucked at my brother's head with unnecessary force and ducking down behind the pumpkin as he looked out the window, rubbing the back of his head.

"Now, they leave," I whispered as the four of us disappeared out the back door of Hagrid's hut. "They come along – have they sighted Buckbeak, 'Mione?"

"Yeah, I think so," she replied, frowning. "They're taking a moment to… admire the scenery?"

"Lovely coincidence," I replied. "Come on, Buckbeak… there's a good hippogriff..."

I looped his chain around my hand, tugging him into the forest and trying to be gentle while I was internally panicking and trying to move as quickly as possible.

Hermione and I walked into the forest with Buckbeak, moving quickly so we could get the hippogriff out of their sight before he was executed.

"Alright, here we go," I mumbled as we came out in a clearing. "I-I think we're good."

"Let's go, then," replied Hermione, and we dashed through the forest as quietly as we could.

"I see us!" I whispered, pointing to the three figures dashing across the grounds after Ron, Sirius and Pettigrew. Hermione winced.

"Does my hair really look that bad from the back?" I shushed her.

"Concentrate!" I replied. "So… the two of you go into the tree here..."

"You're talented," mused Hermione aloud, watching as I rolled around deftly under the branches. "Alright, so you go in here – then what happens?"

"A moment or two passes, and then Professor Lupin comes along," I replied. "See – there he is!"

I frowned, watching him pick up a fallen branch, using it to touch the trunk of the tree.

"Of course," mumbled Hermione. "Of _course_ there's a knot of the tree you can touch that we didn't know about that he knows about – _oh my goodness_."

"What?" I asked.

"H-he's a werewolf," she replied. I frowned. "Remember his absences – once every four weeks, every twenty-eight days, just as there's a full moon every twenty-eight days?"

"How he always looked sick a week every month – I thought he was genuinely ill, but it must have been lycanthropy… Merlin..." I shook my head. "How do you reckon he knew about the Whomping Willow, then?"

"He went to Hogwarts, didn't he?" replied Hermione. "And – they must have had someplace-"

"So you're saying that the tunnel we went through was where he had his transformations?" I asked. She nodded. "Oh, goodness, is it a full moon tonight?"

"Not until Sunday," she replied. "A relief, too."

"Yeah," I replied. "Imagine Pettigrew getting away while Lupin transformed into a werewolf… goodness… speaking of which, how long did we spend in there getting an explanation?"

"A while," answered Hermione. "And while we're on the topic of explanations – how about you give me one, _Holly Potter_?"

"You don't honestly think-"

"It makes sense – all of it!" she exclaimed. "Why you and Harry are so close – he knows, obviously – why Sirius Black knew you… and why you have such a bad reaction to the Dementors… the only part of it that doesn't make sense is the books that say Harry Potter's sister was killed in 1981."

"Well, that's obviously an error," I replied with a shrug. "I grew up here, in one of the towers, 'cause Dumbledore couldn't find a negligent Muggle relative to stick me with for blood protection and instead decided that the next best protection he could offer was found at the world's best magic school."

"I don't believe it," murmured Hermione. "You – _live here_?"

"Not exactly _live_ ," I replied. "Well, yes, technically, and I do consider Hogwarts a home… yes, I suppose..."

"So, why did the Wizarding World never find out you were alive?" asked Hermione, looking at me curiously.

"Because," I replied. "Dumbledore didn't know it himself until after James, Lily and Holly had been pronounced dead, and besides, it's not like there's no Death Eaters still out there – it would have put me in a bunch of unnecessary danger that I guess I'm already in."

She smiled weakly. "Well, speaking of unnecessary danger – there we are."

I squinted in the direction of the tree, where, sure enough, Professor Lupin and Sirius were emerging from the tree, Pettigrew chained between them. It all seemed to happen in slow motion – Harry, Ron, Hermione and I coming up behind them, and then Pettigrew transforming.

"Keep an eye on him and don't be seen," I whispered. Hermione nodded as the rat got nearer, dashing blindly into the tree line and trailed by Sirius; the Dementors following the two of them. I winced, feeling the familiar cold rush over me as I got down on my knees, holding out my hands in front of me.

"Come on, little rat, that's it," I whispered, not audible to anyone but myself and yet strangely comforted by the words I was speaking. "Gotcha!"

My cupped hands closed around him, and despite the wriggling and struggling, it was hopeless.

I had him.

I did a neat roll, flattening myself against a tree trunk as Sirius, Harry and Lupin rushed by. They looked around frantically for a moment, and Pettigrew bit my hand in an attempt to free himself from their searching looks. I waved my wand, silently immobilizing him.

"P-Professor Lupin..." stammered Harry, looking behind them. "Do you – can you cast a Patronus?"

"I could," he replied, "if Pettigrew hadn't stolen my wand when he used that spell on himself to get away." He cursed. "Where did he go?"

"Oh, bother, it's hopeless," muttered Sirius. "Two full grown wizards against a pack of Dementors without a wand – have you got one, Harry?"

"Holly had mine," he replied. I bit back a laugh, remembering how he had dropped it on Hagrid's table when I had thrown the rock at him and I had picked it up.

But I quickly swallowed my laugh.

Three wizards, two witches that actually weren't supposed to make themselves known to the three wizards, and the only wand being the ones Hermione and I had.

I looked to Hermione.

Or rather, the only wand being the one I had.

"You've got to do it, Holly," mumbled Hermione. "I can't cast a Patronus, and we can't let them do it for us."

"I can't cast one either!" I hissed.

"You have got to at least try," she replied. "You're the best trained out of the two of us… try!"

We moved further into the forest so they couldn't see us, and I bit my lip, holding out my wand.

Time to be a Gryffindor – save my brother and my father's two best friends, all I needed to do was cast a simple spell.

I had gotten an 'Outstanding' on my Defense Against the Dark Arts exam for a reason, hadn't I?"

"Expecto Patronum," I whispered, rewarded with nothing but a silvery mist – barely enough.

I had to try harder – _I had to._

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

There it was – the Patronus.

A silver incarnation of a wolf leaped from my wand, dashing through the forest and snarling at the Dementors. I stumbled but didn't fall as I tugged on Hermione's sleeve, breaking her away from her amazement as we fled the scene.

"We've got to get back!" I whispered harshly. She nodded, and we raced across the grounds, ducking into the shadows so as not to be seen.

We scaled the stairs to the Hospital Wing, slipping through the doors just as the clock chimed midnight, seeing our past selves disappear with the Time Turner around their necks.

"What the bloody hell was that?" asked Ron, looking entirely bewildered. "You – did you just – you were there and then you came in-"

"That's ridiculous, Ronald," I replied with a soft smile. "How could we be in two places at once?"

Hermione looked out the window, and I appeared beside her, our eyes following the progression of three figures as they made their ways up to the castle.

"Have you got the-?" Hermione looked to me, and I frowned, before realizing what she was talking about.

"Yes," I replied, my hand finding the furry creature in my pocket. "We should wait until they come back up – then Professor Dumbledore will want to speak to us, surely."

"Speak of the devil..." mumbled Hermione as the door to the infirmary was opened by the headmaster, who ushered in Harry and Professor Lupin.

"Where's Sirius?" I whispered to Harry. He gulped.

"We couldn't get Pettigrew – they chained him up," he replied. I frowned, looking to Professor Dumbledore.

"Miss Leavitt-"

"I need to speak to you," I interrupted him. "Out in the hall. Right now."

I left the hospital wing without another word, and he soon followed, closing the door behind him.

"Holly, I am-"

I carefully extracted Pettigrew from my pocket, holding him out by his tail to Professor Dumbledore. "Now, I would advise you to release my brother's wrongly convicted godfather – after questioning the wizard he murdered, of course. Good day, headmaster."


	10. Of Godfathers and Goings

Diary of a Discovered Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter X : Of Godfathers and Goings_

"Come in."

I smiled, pushing open the door to Professor Lupin's office. He looked up, rather surprised.

"Holly," he said simply. "How are you?"

"I'm well, thanks," I replied, looking around the room with a frown. The books that had previously been lined up on shelves throughout the room were now gone, the tank that had previously housed a Grindylow drained and empty. "Are you moving offices?"

He smiled weakly. "In a way, I suppose," he replied. I gasped.

"You're not-"

"I haven't been fired, no," he replied. "I'm resigning of my own accord." I raised an eyebrow, bewildered. "News has recently leaked out of a certain… _illness_ that I am afflicted with, and parents are going to grow suspicious if I continue to teach, and perhaps even pull their children out of school so they don't have to be taught with someone with my disease."

I gaped openly. "Professor, you're the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor we've ever had!" I exclaimed. "You can't resign just because you're a werewolf!"

It was his turn to gape. "How long have you known?" he asked. I frowned.

"I've suspected it for a while," I replied with a shrug. "But it doesn't make an impact on your teaching – Quirrell would still have been a rubbish teacher if he hadn't have been housing Voldemort on the back of his head, just as Lockhart would have been able to teach us nothing but about himself and his false accomplishments even if he hadn't been a pretty boy."

He raised an eyebrow. "A pretty boy?" he repeated.

"Well, no, not in my opinion," I replied. "I'm not into the whole 'blond prima donna' thing."

He chuckled. "That's good, then." I raised an eyebrow. "The less types of boys you're interested in, the less boys you'll go out with."

"Who are you, my father?" I asked with a smile.

"Something of the sort," he replied. "Your godfather."

I gasped. "You're – _you're my godfather_?" He nodded. "But – I thought Sirius-"

"Sirius is Harry's godfather, yes," he replied. "But he wasn't her first choice – Lily's, that is. She wanted me to be godfather, and James wanted Sirius – eventually they had twins, so both got their wishes."

"So you mean to say – that if all had gone according to my parents' plans, I would have gone to live with you and Harry to Sirius?" He shook his head. "You're – right. A werewolf… so how would that have worked, anyway?"

"The two of you would both have gone to live with Sirius, I would have had a major part in raising the both of you, however."

"So you and Sirius, would, like, have lived together?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow. He chuckled.

"We could have if we chose to," he replied. "You're very like your father, Pu- Holly."

"Why do you keep on trying to call me 'Pup?'" I asked curiously. He looked bewildered.

"How did you know that?" he asked.

"I didn't tell you?" I asked. "That I've been having headaches at day and dreams of my past at night – recurring memories trying to hint to me that my Inner Eye was trying to foresee something? Each of them featuring Peter Pettigrew, many of them with you and Sirius and my parents and Harry? And that I gave a prophecy?"

"You're a Seer?" he asked, looking rather curious, surprised and proud at the same time. I nodded. "And the prophecy entailed-"

"That a traitor, chained for twelve years, would break free and set out to rejoin his master," I replied. "Of course, it never specified that he actually _would_ rejoin his master, which is why he's locked up in the same tower that Sirius was in."

"Ah, yes, I've been meaning to talk to you about that." I quirked an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "I'm fairly certain that neither you nor Hermione would have ditched your injured friend… that is, until after you had gotten him to safety… however, by the time he _was_ to safety, we were already saved."

"That was a mighty strong Patronus you cast, Holly."

I smiled weakly. "I guess I suck at keeping secrets," I replied with a laugh. "That, combined with the fact that I already told you about the Time Turner."

"You're a very intelligent girl, Holly." He smiled, ruffling my hair affectionately. "Who knows – maybe we'll look into that living arrangement you spoke of."

I smiled. "Thank you, professor."

He shook his head. "I'm not your professor any longer," he reminded me. I tilted my head to the side, pondering this for a moment before my eyes lit up.

"Can I call you Moony, then?" He laughed.

"Sure thing, Pup."


End file.
